


Not Enough Time

by SpaceCakes



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Slice of Life, Sugimura is a trigger warning in and of himself tbh, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCakes/pseuds/SpaceCakes
Summary: Haru had somehow managed to convince her father to let her study at a university before marrying Sugimura. She wanted to buy herself more time. But she didn’t know that time would be spent on a mysterious man with many odd jobs.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Okumura Haru, Kurusu Akira/Okumura Haru, Niijima Makoto & Okumura Haru, Okumura Haru/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 86
Kudos: 149





	1. Not a Fairy Tale

Time wasn’t something Haru Okumura had a lot of. As the third and final semester of her year of University drew near, she found herself busy with her studies. With exams on the horizon, her textbooks and coffee appeared to be her only companions. Even now, on the train, surrounded by people, her nose was buried deep in a book. She tuned everyone out, the world around her nothing but a blur.

It wasn’t until her stop at Shibuya Station that she realized she hadn’t absorbed a single text, her mind too unfocused. Sighing in defeat, she closed her book, placing it into her bag. Stepping off the train, try as she might, her mind couldn't help but wander off without her permission. Next year, if her school and studies were to go as planned, Haru would be graduating. What would be considered liberating for some, was simply a reminder that Haru’s life was never hers to begin with. Graduating wasn’t a reason to celebrate. For her, it was a life sentence. Haru wondered if she could get away with intentionally failing her classes just to bide more time. But her father was no fool; she knew all too well. Eventually, her father would figure it out. He’d pull her out of school, and, just to further punish her, he'd force her to move in with _him_. And moving in—let alone, being alone with Sugim— _him_ was the last thing she wanted to do with her time. She was already damned to live the rest of her life with him _._ She wanted to enjoy these last few years of freedom. Best to not do anything stupid that may anger her father.

Haru hadn’t realized she made it to the flower shop until she heard someone clear their throat. Just how long had she stood there, staring at nothing with a solemn look?

Looking up, she momentarily froze. The person in front of her had the fluffiest black hair she had ever seen on a man. Gray eyes so intense, she had to look away for fear he’d turn her to stone. Despite his almost cold gaze, nothing about him seemed uninviting. In fact, he simply seemed tired.

“May I help you?” He asked. Haru couldn’t pick up the tone in his voice. He didn’t sound angry, so perhaps that was a good sign.

“Yes. Sorry.” Hand clutching her bag, she racked her brain, trying to remember what she was here to buy. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts; she had left herself in a trance.

“Were you the one who ordered Bio Nutrients?” The young man asked.

“Yes!” Haru exclaimed, before lowering her voice, “That’s what I came to pick up!” She bit back the apology that tried to sneak its way out of her mouth. He didn’t seem to mind or care, but she couldn’t help but think that he thought of her as a ditz. Shaking that idea from her head, Haru said, “Also, would you happen to have any seeds for buttercups? I’d like to pick some up while they’re still in season.”

Giving a hum in thought, the young man went to the back, sorting through seed packets. Once he found what he was searching for, he held two packets in each hand.

“What color?”

Tilting her head, she studied the packets. On another occasion, she might have picked white. But, with her mood not being the brightest, her eyes gravitated toward the yellow. Something that could brighten up her garden would be nice. Perhaps, once they’re fully bloomed, she could put them in a vase to add color to her apartment. Like bringing in a small bouquet of sunshine to lighten her day.

“The yellow ones please.”

The young man gave an almost cat-like smile, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She swore she saw a sparkle in his eye, but that could have been her imagination. “Good choice.”

She pulled out her cash, placing it in a tray on the counter. The young man handed her a bag full of the Bio Nutrients and seed packets she had bought, before giving her a slight bow.

“Thank you for shopping with us.” He said. 

Haru simply smiled, giving a small bow of her own. As she walked away, she allowed her eyes to linger on the stranger a second longer than she should have. She couldn’t remember ever thinking a stranger to be so handsome. In recent memory anyway. She had her small crushes in high school, but every time, once the person learned of her status, the dynamic would change. No longer were they interested in _Haru_ Okumura, their soft-spoken classmate. No, instead they grew more interested in Haru _Okumura_ , the heiress to Okumura Foods. This very reason was why she had never been in a serious relationship.

Wait. Why was she thinking about relationships? Was she truly so deprived of romance that simply looking at a handsome man who didn’t look at her like a piece of meat caused her mind to drift to such topics? And even so, it wasn’t like any relationship would go anywhere. Not with her circumstance. Besides, she didn’t even know Handsome Flower Shop Guy (was that nickname even appropriate for an engaged woman to think?), so why would she be thinking about crushes?

She was engaged to marry the son of a politician. By this time next year, she’d be arranged to move in with her fiancé. And after that… well, she didn’t want to think about it too much. She knew her thoughts would race if she allowed herself to do so. Taking in a deep breath, she calmed herself. She needed to get back to her apartment while there was still light out.

* * *

That weekend, Haru made her way through Yongen Jaya. According to her friend, Makoto Niijima—or just Mako-chan as a nickname—there was a quaint little café in the area. With finals near, she could use the quiet atmosphere—and coffee—to her advantage to study. There was even a bathhouse across the alleyway. Haru had never been to a public bathhouse before. Perhaps she and Makoto could stop by once exams were over. After all, it never hurt to relax. It might be the last time she could freely spend time with one of her few friends. Shaking that solemn thought away, Haru opened the door to the café. Lablanc was the name if she remembered correctly. Immediately she was charmed by the antiquated décor. The sweet smells of coffee soothed her, almost blanketing her in a warm embrace of nostalgia. She half expected her grandfather to be on the other side of the counter, a kind and welcoming expression decorating his face.

Instead stood an older gentleman, perhaps in his 50s, standing behind the counter, eyes on the tv. The sound of the bell from the door alerted him to Haru’s presence. Eyes locked with hers, he said, “Welcome. How can I help you?”

Stuttering through her words, Haru tried to regain her composure. She knew her grandfather wouldn’t be there, but she couldn't fight back the pitiful tug at her heart when she realized that. “Hello, sir. I’d just like a simple cup of coffee please.”

The older gentlemen gave a nod, “Coming up. Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to one of the booths. She did so without hesitation, placing her bag beside her. Unzipping it, she pulled out a few textbooks, a notebook, and a highlighter. Opening her notebook, she flipped the pages of her neatly written notes, before landing on the most recent date. The bell to the front café door rang, signaling someone’s appearance.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Said a deep voice from behind Haru. She didn’t turn around to look, too focused on her work.

“Took you long enough.” Said the café owner, voice stern but not at all unfriendly, “I could use a break. Watch over the store while I take a smoke, would you?”

Haru didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation after that, completely tuning the world around her out. It wasn’t until the welcoming aroma of coffee was placed before her, in a cute yet simple cup atop a small plate. Something about its plain design was a charming sight.

Right as she was about to thank her server, he spoke up, “I remember you.”

Taken aback, Haru finally looked up, meeting the familiar eyes of Handsome Flower Shop Guy. Except today, he was Handsome Coffee Shop Guy! His hair was as messy as it was last she saw him, but his expression seemed more alert. Perhaps he had a long hard day at work when they had met at the flower shop. She could sympathize. 

“Oh! Hello. It’s nice to see you again.” She clasped her hands in her lap, “Thank you again for the buttercups.”

He simply nodded, hands in his pocket. “Could I get you anything else?”

With a soft shake of her head, she said, “No, thank you. I’ll be just fine for now.”

“You sure? I wouldn’t recommend studying on an empty stomach.”

She opened her mouth to say something before closing it again. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten much that day. Perhaps a real meal could do her some good. Smiling, she said, “Alright. I’m not too familiar with the menu. Is there anything you’d recommend?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Lablanc’s famous curry. It’ll pair great with your coffee.”

Curry and coffee huh? She had never heard of this combination before. But she was willing to give it a try. She did love taking in the unique flavors of different cafes around the city. She knew, once she was married, she couldn’t do that anymore. They would expect her to be a proper wife, not just for her husband, but for the media. Just a pretty proper poppet.

Pushing that thought away, Haru smiled, “That sounds lovely. I’ll give it a try.”

He gave a simple nod before leaving for the kitchen. Haru kept her eyes on her textbooks and notes, the hum of the television in the distance—the only reminder that time was moving at all. Soon, the savory smells of, what she assumed to be the curry, filled the café, and Haru had to stop herself from drooling. She’d sneak a peek at Handsome Coffee Shop Guy, silently admiring how he swiftly cut through vegetables like it was easy. There was just something attractive about a guy who knew his way around the kitchen. She bit her lip at that thought as if punishing herself. _Just focus on studying,_ she thought to herself.

The curry the young man brought to her looked just as divine as it smelled. He stood there, hands in his pockets as if waiting on her approval. Slowly, as if to savor the moment, she lifted her spoon, taking a small bite. Immediately, the sweet yet savory flavors coated her taste buds. Despite the unfamiliar taste, its warmth reminded her of her grandfather’s old café. Something about it felt like home. Like eating a hot meal over a fire in the middle of winter, freezing snow dusting the outdoors, but the fire and food kept the inside cozy and inviting.

“It’s delicious!” Haru exclaimed.

Handsome Coffee Shop Guy gave a smile, “Glad to hear it. Enjoy your meal.” And with that, he set off, collecting the dishes from the other booths. A part of her wished he’d stayed, if only for a little chat. About what exactly? She wasn’t sure. Something about his aura was so alluring. Everything about him was tall dark and mysterious. He seemed to be around her age. Sugim—her fiance wasn’t that much older than her _now_ , but she had been engaged to him since she was 17. Perhaps, because of that, it never _felt_ like they were close in age, despite him being four years her senior.

She bit her lip again, forcing herself to focus on her notes. Perhaps she was lonely. That could be the only explanation for why she was so interested in this mysterious stranger. Her only friend was Makoto, but they never talked about romance or relationships. Truthfully, despite being a hopeless romantic at heart, love was a subject Haru purposefully avoided. She wasn’t going to get her ending with Prince Charming. Happily ever afters existed only in books. This was no fairy tale; this was real life. And real life seldom ended the way one excepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Perpousfully avoids mentioning Joker's name because I can't decide between "Ren" or "Akira."*  
> I might just call him "Ren Kurusu" like I did in my current save file. (Because I like the nickname "RenRen" but I like "Kurusu" better as a surname.) 
> 
> Normally, I don't write "no powers AUs" but, this fic idea just wouldn't leave my head. I almost tagged this a "Coffee Shop/Flower Shop AU" but does it count if Joker has those jobs in canon?  
> I do write plot outlines for my fics, to help me keep on track. Joker/Haru is my fave P5 pair. They deserve more love 💕
> 
> The rest of the Phantom Thieves will show up in future chapters. I'll tag them as they appear.


	2. Okada

Every week, Haru would find herself at Lablanc, in one of their booths, sipping coffee. She claimed it was because she enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. Which she did. The shop was so far away from traffic, and most of the residents seemed to be families with young children or the elderly. It was quite a friendly and tranquil experience, so different from what Haru was used to. The people in the area didn’t seem to know who she was and for that, she was grateful.

Though she claimed it was the coffee that kept her coming back, she couldn’t deny that the sight of one handsome barista made her stick around much longer than she should. She’d never spoken to him. Goodness no. Whatever would they talk about? Perhaps she could ask him how he got so good at brewing coffee? Or if rather his hair was naturally that fluffy? Or maybe she should start with his name. Yes, that may be a good place to start.

She decided to be a little bolder that day. Instead of sitting in one of the many booths, Haru sat at the barstool at the counter. Handsome Coffee Guy handed her a fresh cup, and she took it with a nod in thanks. She would sit there in silence, eyes covertly looking in Handsome Coffee Guy’s direction. He was currently clearing tables, collecting dishes to be washed.

“Um,” Haru had opened her mouth before clamping it shut. But it was too late; the young man had obviously heard her. He looked right at her, with those piercing gray eyes.

“Everything okay?” He asked, placing the dishes into the sink.

“Yes!” She said, voice louder than it needed to be. Clearing her throat, in a much calmer voice, she said, “Everything’s great. This coffee is as wonderful as always.” She took a sip, averting her eyes, “I just… I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name.”

He hummed as he wiped his wet hands on his apron. “Ren Kurusu.”

“Kurusu-kun.” She tested his name on her lips. “That’s a nice name. I’m Haru Ok—” She paused, catching the words before they fell from her mouth. Whenever anyone learned of her family’s name, it never ended well. She wanted to start fresh. Besides; by this time next year, she’d be leaving her old life behind. There was a chance she’d never be able to come to this café again. She wanted her last memories of freedom to be good ones. “Okada.” She said, saying the first thing that popped into her head. “Haru Okada.”

He sent her a smile. It was more like a lop-sided smile, reminding her of a sleepy cat. “Nice to meet you Okada-san.”

Haru frowned slightly, not yet accustomed to her new false name. Replacing her frown with a smile, she said, “It’s nice to meet you too, Kurusu-kun.”

* * *

Makoto had dragged Haru off to the 777 to pick up “study snacks.” Makoto’s exams were a lot sooner than Haru’s, so the young woman was more on edge. Well, more than usual. The two were planning on pulling an all-nighter, with Haru staying the night at Makoto’s apartment. Technically, Haru wasn’t allowed to spend the night at another’s. But her housekeeper—who came around every day to “checkup” on her—never gave her away to her father. It was like the two had come to a silent agreement; so long as Haru stayed out of serious trouble, her housekeeper wouldn’t sell her out to her father. It felt nice, rebelling against her father, even if it was in the smallest of ways.

Currently, she was eyeing some candies at the 777. She had a bit of a sweet tooth, and these candies went wonderfully with tea. It wasn’t anything too fancy, which was kind of the appeal for her. Picking out more than a few of her favorite flavors, she made her way to the cash register. Placing her items on the counter, her eyes scanned the store, searching for Makoto.

“Okada-san?”

It took Haru a moment to register that unfamiliar name flowing from that familiar voice. Low and behold, it was Ren Kurusu, dressed in a 777 uniform. The pink and green of the uniform clashed greatly with the mysterious aura she had come to associate with him.

“Oh, hello Kurusu-kun. I didn’t know you worked here too.” She wished she could take those words back. Of course she didn’t know he worked there. She didn’t know much about him. It was only recently that she even learned his name.

“Occasionally.” He answered, scanning her items one by one.

Haru began to feel slightly self-conscious about all the sweets she had bought. Perhaps she had gone a bit overboard.

Makoto seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, placing her snacks on the counter beside Haru. She went through her purse, searching for her wallet. Just as she was about to hand over her money, she paused. “Oh, hey Ren. I didn’t know you were working today.”

Haru’s eyes drifted from Makoto to Kurusu, confusion clear on her face.

Ren simply nodded with a smile. It was a lot bigger than the small smiles he had ever given her. “Yeah, they changed my shift.” He said as he placed her items into a bag.

Makoto caught Haru’s confused gaze, “Oh, Haru, this is an old friend of mine. We went to high school together.”

That did manage to clear things up. It wasn’t everyday one witnessed Makoto being casual with someone.

Kurusu’s eyes looked from hers to Makoto’s, a smirk gracing his lips, “So this is your friend from uni. Nice to see she’s real.” That was the first time Haru had ever heard such a playful tone from him.

Makoto’s reaction was unexpected. Instead of reprimanding him like Haru thought she would, she simply rolled her eyes. She took the bags from his hands, a stern yet playful look on her face, “You know, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days.”

That didn’t seem to deter Ren. He simply matched her with a sly look, “I sure hope you’re right.”

That earned a small giggle from Haru. She wanted to hide when his eyes met hers, making her cheeks hot. She hadn’t meant to laugh; it was just unexpected. Kurusu was always so quiet around her. Seeing him be just a bit more casual was quite the treat.

“Did you hear?” Makoto said, ignoring Kurusu’s last statement, “Ann’s flying back in for spring break.”

“Yeah.” Kurusu rubbed the back of his neck, a fine blush dusting his cheeks. “I heard.”

Makoto shook her head, “Of course _you’d_ be the first to know.” She readjusted the strap to her purse, and with a wave of her hand said, “Let us know when we’ll all meet up. It was nice seeing you.”

Kurusu lifted his hand with a wave of his own, “Same here.”

Once they exited the store, Haru’s head was swarming with unanswered questions. Holding her bag of sweets closer, she said softly, “Mako-chan, how do you…” her voice drifted, not sure how to phrase the question. Makoto never mentioned knowing Kurusu before. But then again, it wasn’t like the young woman ever went into detail about her personal life. But it wasn’t like Haru ever went into details about her past either.

As the two walked to the train station, Makoto spoke, “That was Ren. We’ve been friends for a while. He can be a brat sometimes, but he’s reliable in a pinch.”

Haru was a bit envious that Makoto seemed to know Kurusu’s playful side. It was surprising to see, as he seemed more reserved around her. But now that Haru knew that side of him, she had to admit; she wanted to see more. What she saw today was but a small glimpse. What would it take for him to let his guard down around her, she wondered.

Standing in wait of the train, Haru’s purse began to buzz. Opening it, she pulled out her phone. Reading the name of the sender, she wished she hadn’t picked up her at all.

**Sugimura: I’m on my way home from a business trip. I have a date scheduled this weekend. Wear something nice.**

Just reading his text made Haru’s skin crawl. She was grateful he hadn’t sent anything vulgar this time around. He had been on a trip outside of the country; perhaps he was too jetlagged to think of anything creative. This date wasn’t an invitation; it was a command. He knew she couldn’t say no. If she did, he’d go running to her father, and that alone could be disastrous.

“You okay, Haru?” Makoto placed her hand on her shoulder, causing Haru to jump. Makoto held up her hands in surrender.

“Yes. I’m fine Mako-chan.” Haru said with a smile, hiding the screen of her phone on her chest. Makoto eyed her suspiciously but ultimately said nothing. Haru couldn’t fight back the guilt of not telling her only friend about her “date,” but she knew it’ll do nothing but worry her if she knew.

Almost shakily, she texted back:

**Haru: I have exams this weekend. Next weekend perhaps?**

Time seemed to have stretched on for hours as she waited for him to respond. Truthfully, she _was_ free that weekend. Her final class was on Friday. At least if this “date” were next weekend, it’ll give her more time to mentally prepare herself for being alone with Sugimura for god knows how long.

Finally, after what felt like a millennium of waiting, he sent back: **Next Monday.**

That would only give her a few days to prepare. It wasn’t ideal, but it’ll have to do. It wasn’t like he was giving her much wiggle room. If she kept pushing back any further he'd grow suspicious of her. Placing her phone back into her purse, the train slowed to a stop, opening its doors. As she and Makoto walked on and found a seat, Haru couldn’t help but let the dread settle. She was grateful that Makoto had decided not to speak because Haru currently had little energy to spare. She was grateful that she would be sleeping over at Makoto's place. It meant when they were done studying, Haru could simply roll into her futon, indulge in some sweets and Makoto's soothing tea, and fall into a sugar-induced sleep. A two-week long slumber sounded nice if only to avoid her “date.” She wished that was possible. 


	3. Sugimura

Sugimura had offered to pick Haru up from her apartment but she turned him down. She’d sooner want to be left to starving wolves before she’d allow herself to be alone in a car with him. It was the smaller things like this that reminded her of her limited freedom. She knew by this time next year, calling a driver to drop her off to meet her ‘fiancée’ wouldn’t be an option. So, for now, she was going to take advantage of this freedom to chose.

The place Sugimura picked was the Wilton Hotel. Haru had come here a few times before with her father and other executives. Their date started off fine enough; Sugimura busied himself on the phone, trying to sort out some mistake one of his father's executives made. If this were a real date with a man she truly loved, Haru would feel ignored. But any moment Sugimura didn’t spend on Haru was a moment of absolute bliss. Hopefully, when they married, he’ll be too busy with work to spend any time with her. But she knew that was wishful thinking.

Eventually, Sugimura hung up in a huff, a long-exasperated sigh escaping him. She knew better than to speak with him when he was irritated. But she also knew how he’d berate her for not treating him like her fiancée. It was a common complaint he told her father. That she was “cold” and “dismissive.” In actuality, Sugimura wasn’t easy to talk to. She never seemed to know the right thing to say to him. So, against her better judgment, she asked, “I-is everything okay?”

He looked up at her as if she had asked him if water was wet. “Does it _look_ like everything’s okay?”

She didn’t mean to wince at the sound of his agitated voice, but she did. Averting her gaze, she picked at her food. These “dates” started off as a regular thing at the beginning of their engagement. They were normally set up by her father as a way for them to “get to know each other.” Mercifully, they became less frequent once she started university and Sugimura took over his father’s company. Sugimura’s father was a businessman who recently wormed his way into the political world. A path Haru’s own father hoped to take if this engagement went as planned.

Taking a sip of his drink, Sugimura sighed, “I’ve been back in town for a while, and not once did you call or text me.”

Haru’s meal had long gone cold, but she ate it regardless. It at least gave her time to think of something to say. “I’m sorry. The school year’s ending soon. I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had the time for much else.” Technically it was the truth. Though spending her little free time speaking to Sugimura wasn’t on the top of her list of priorities.

The man before her scoffed, “A text only takes a minute.” Setting his drink down, he continued, “I don’t see why you’re so interested in finishing school. When we’re married, and your father joins the political world, he’ll leave the company to me, I'm sure. The only thing you should worry yourself with is planning our wedding.”

Haru didn’t have the energy to fake a smile. She simply kept her eyes on her plate, mumbling softly, “I just… thought maybe if I got a degree in business, I could help with the company.” She didn’t like the idea of leaving her father’s company in the hands of Sugimura. It was true that he had more experience in that regard. But she wanted to be more than a pretty decoration.

The date whet by agonizingly slow. Thankfully, Sugimura seemed more preoccupied with hearing himself speak than hearing anything about Haru’s life. If it meant she didn’t have to engage in conversation with him, she didn’t mind.

On the walk back to her car, it was hard for Haru not to speed walk. She kept herself cool and collected, Sugimura not too far behind. Just as her driver opened her door, a hand on her shoulder stopped her in place.

“Let me drive you back to my place. Things have been stressed for me. I could use a bit of a release.” The shift in the tone of his voice sent a chill down Haru’s spine. This was precisely why she had her own driver drop her off.

Forcing what she hoped was a pleasant smile, she said, “I’m feeling really tired tonight. I’ve been busy all week. I’d just like to get some sleep.”

But he didn’t release his hand. Instead, he squeezed harder, “Then you could sleepover at my place.”

She searched for the perfect excuse out of this, but her brain was drawing a blank. Almost dejected, eyes downcast, she repeated, “I’m just… really tired.”

Her driver, perhaps noticing her discomfort, placed his hand atop Haru’s other shoulder, ushering her inside the car. He looked to Sugimura, a look of indifference on his face. “Okumura-san has a busy schedule tomorrow. It’s best for her to get her sleep early.” Her driver was an elderly man. He was always respectful, usually with Haru. The way he stood between her and her fiancée was almost protective.

Sugimura roughly smacked the driver’s hand off his shoulder, his face set in a scowl. Eyes on her, he practically hissed, “You can’t keep making excuses forever. Like it or not, we will be married. I’d expect you to at least _try_ and act the part of a wife.”

Her driver shut the door, muffling her fiancée’s words. He seemed to have turned his attention to her driver.

“I’m sure I can have you fired!” His muffled words rang through the car, “All I have to do is tell your boss you put your hands on her.”

Haru sat in the back seat, numb. Sugimura was exaggerating. While her driver did put his hand on her shoulder, he was never aggressive.

She didn’t notice when the mumbles quieted, nor did she see her driver when he got into the front seat. Only when the car started moving did she look up at the review mirror.

“Thank you, Mori-san.” She said as a soft smile graced her face. “I’ll make sure to speak with my father to straighten out any misunderstandings.”

The elderly man gave a hearty chuckle, “Please, relax, Okumura-san. You deserve that much.”

The further away from that man she got, the calmer the atmosphere around her felt. Taking off her heels, Haru allowed herself to sink deeper into the back seat. Eyes growing heavy, she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chocolate Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For age reference, the ages of the P-thieves for this fic would be:  
> Ren: 19-20  
> Ryuji: 19-20  
> Ann: 19-20  
> Yusuke: 19-20  
> Makoto: 20-21  
> Futaba: 18-19  
> Haru: 20-21

With spring break on the horizon, Haru’s free time was almost endless. Despite having a myriad of activities she wanted to do, she somehow always found herself at the doors of Lablanc. There was something about its soothing atmosphere that put her mind at ease. And, with the current events happening in her life, she could use the peaceful ambiance. She was seated in one of the booths, the pitter-patter of rain calming her nerves. Despite how outwardly relaxed she might have looked to anyone looking from the outside, inwardly, her mind would not allow her to rest.

Sugimura had made good on his threat, telling Kunikazu Okumura—Haru’s father—about the “incident” with her driver. Haru didn’t go into too much detail about the event, but she was able to explain it away as a misunderstanding. Her father was skeptical at first before he decided to let her driver off with a warning. It was better than nothing, Haru thought. But she knew, if a situation like that ever occurred again in the future, her driver would be fired. Her father seemed to always put Sugimura’s needs first.

“He comes from a prestigious political family.” Her father would say, face stern, “If this marriage falls through, it’ll be a huge opportunity for me. Don’t mess this up.”

Haru sighed to herself, using the hot mug of coffee to keep her hands warm. Because she had so much free time on her hands, Sugimura had been trying to get the two of them alone more than usual. She had even found a vase of flowers on her front door, signed from him. It was her housekeeper who found the roses. Haru had half the mind to throw them away, before deciding against it. It wasn't the flower's fault they were bought by Sugimura. They didn't deserve such treatment. 

Haru had been halfheartedly answering the text her fiancé had been sending, giving him just enough attention to keep him happy enough so he won’t complain to her father. Well, “happy” was probably too strong a word. Was it possible to keep Sugimura happy? He always seemed to nitpick every little thing she said or did. Dealing with him was exhausting. At least now, with the two of them only engaged, Haru could escape to school, or her plants or a café. As much as she hated to, her mind would always wander off on its own. This time next year, where would her life be? Whenever she entertained the thought, her stomach would ache, almost making her dizzy with nausea.

“Everything alright, Okada-san?” That familiar deep voice broke her out of her melancholy thoughts. She must have looked startled, because he held his hand up, almost in surrender, and said, “Sorry. You just seemed kind of dazed.”

Haru momentarily froze before putting on the most genuine smile she could muster. “Yes, I’m fine. The coffee is as wonderful as always.”

By the look on Kurusu’s face, he didn’t seem to believe her. “Are you sure? You’ve been sighing a lot.”

With that comment, Haru’s face overheated with a familiar blush, “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t answer; just gave a soft hum in acknowledgment. Despite how little she said, Haru still worried that she might have let too much slip. They weren’t friends. She was simply a customer overstaying her welcome.

Kurusu disappeared into the kitchen, and, for a second, Haru believed she must have scared him off. She wondered if she’d been coming to this café too often. Were the owner and Kurusu growing tired of her? She did find herself here more than in her own apartment. Despite her limited freedom, technically she was kept under watch by her housekeeper. And, despite her housekeeper not being as strict as her father might have wanted, Haru still found herself wandering around the city. Lablanc was starting to become an escape, and she hoped she didn’t just mess that up.

A plate softly hitting the wooden table in front of her broke Haru out of her musings. It took a moment for her to register what had happened. In front of her sat a plate with a slice of cake. It wasn’t a fancy cake—just a simple chocolate slice—but it smelled delectable. As tempting as it was to dig right in, Haru looked up into those sparkling gray eyes. “I’m sorry. But I didn’t order this.”

“I know.” He stuck both of his hands into his pockets, nonchalantly, “It’s on the house.”

She tried to stop herself from stuttering, but failed miserably, “O-oh, no, that won’t be necessary. I’m fine with paying for myself.”

He tugged at a stray strand of hair, face never changing, yet his eyes were almost soft, “It’s not a problem.” As he walked away to collect dishes from the neighboring tables, he gave her one last look, “I hope things get better soon.” And with that, he left.

Haru sat there a moment, at a loss for words. She couldn’t remember the last time someone did such a small kind gesture. And Kurusu did it without even knowing her true family name. He wasn’t being kind to earn the approval of her father, or some selfish ulterior motive. He simply did it because he wanted to.

Taking her spoon, Haru took a small bite of her chocolate cake. She let the flavor sit on her tongue, relishing in its surgery, chocolaty goodness.

A soft smile graced her lips, her eyes stealing a glimpse of Kurusu. It was such a small yet sweet gesture; It made her chest warm. Taking another bite of her cake, she smiled softly to herself, committing this moment to memory.

* * *

After Haru finished eating her cake, she made her way to the door to leave. It was late, and it looked like the rain hadn’t let up at all. She mentally scolded herself for not checking the weather forecast, otherwise, she might have remembered to bring an umbrella. It was so sunny that morning, she hadn’t even thought about a possible downpour. With it being early spring, she felt like she should have known better.

Standing outside, under the café door’s window awning, Haru was trying her best to stay dry. She debated just making a run for it to the station. She’d probably be moderately soaked.

Before she had the time to think, there was a tap on her shoulder. When she looked up, she found Kurusu, closing the door behind him with an umbrella in hand.

“Heading to the station?” He asked as he opened the umbrella.

Haru smiled up at him, giving him a nod, “Yes. Though, I wish I had come prepared for this type of weather.”

He tilted the umbrella toward her, a casual smile on his face, “I could walk you if you want. I was going to do some grocery shopping, but I could take a detour.”

“Oh.” That caught her by surprise. On any other occasion, she might have turned him down. But today, she was feeling oddly curious. This young man knew nothing about her. He was under no obligation to treat her so kindly, especially since he was currently off the clock. Her lips curved up into a soft smile, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Standing by his side, they walked in sync, slowly making their way toward the station. With every step water seeped into her shoes, soaking her tights. Despite how uncomfortable that should have made her, it was oddly nostalgic. She was reminded of the days she’d play out in the rain with her rubber boots, trying to get her father or grandfather to join in on the fun.

With a wistful sigh, and without thinking too much about it, Haru said aloud, “I’ve always found the rain so peaceful.”

Kurusu peeked at her from the corner of his eye, a curious look on his face. “Yeah? You don’t seem like the rain type."  
She giggled, “Well, I do like the look of spring. And the rain is perfect for my garden.”

He nodded with a hum, probably to humor her. “Oh, Kurusu-kun, don’t you work in a flower shop?”

He nodded, running his fingers through his fluffy black hair. “How are the flowers you bought?”

Her smile brightened, “They’re doing lovely. They’re not in full bloom yet. Perhaps I’ll let you know when they are.” A pause, then, “Are you interested in gardening, Kurusu-kun?”

His hand did the gesture for ‘so-so,’ “Somewhat.” He said, “I know a bit about flowers. There’s this plant in my room I take care of. Hasn't died yet.”

It took a while for Haru to realize that was a joke. She let out a giggle. Oddly, the idea that he took care of plants and knew about flowers made her feel strangely excited. Sure, he didn’t seem as enthused about gardening as she was, but it was still nice to meet someone who had even a bit of a green thumb. “That’s wonderful. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about flowers.”  
That got the smallest of smiles out of him. “Sure thing.”

It might have been just a small casual smile, but it still managed to lift Haru’s mood, somewhat. She was almost disappointed when they entered the station. Closing his umbrella, he shook the water off. “This is your stop.” He said, just the smallest hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Thank you,” Haru said, just as another train pulled up. She tried to sound as neutral as possible. “I suppose I’ll see you another time.”

Another casual smile graced his lips, as he waved, “I’ll see you around, Okada-san.”

And with that, he was gone. Haru tried not to think about how lonely she felt at the sight of him disappearing. They had spoken so casually together. Well, perhaps it was a bit of a one-sided conversation. Kurusu did seem like the type who liked to listen. Unless she was simply annoying him, and he was too polite to say otherwise. But he wouldn’t have offered to walk her in the rain if that were the case, right? Such a mysterious man, that Ren Kurusu.

Taking the closest available seat, Haru began to think. Would it be alright to learn more about him? It couldn’t hurt to have someone else she could talk to. And if he knew a thing or two about flowers, that could be a fun topic of conversation. She knew a bit more about vegetables and fruits. Planting flowers was something still new to her. On top of that, Ren Kurusu seemed… kind. And that kindness seemed genuine. As though he wasn't expecting anything in return. 

And she could get used to having more people like that in her life.


	5. Peonies

Haru had managed to talk Makoto into coming with her to check out a new café in Kichijoji. Although nothing was stopping her from going to Lablanc, she still wanted to go out of her way to discover new cafes. It could help her for the future of Okumura Foods. Besides, she was sure the owner could use a break from her. She was starting to believe she might have been overstaying her welcome. 

As they made their way through the streets of Kichijoji, Haru couldn't help but gush about the different foods from this café she read about, “I read they have these adorable ice cream mochi shaped like cats. It’s quite adorable.”

Makoto simply hummed, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.

“And there are these green tea parfaits. I saw a picture of them in a magazine, and the colors are just so lovely.”

Makoto gave a soft chuckle, “I’m starting to think you didn't want to come to this café for just 'research.' You might just have a sweet tooth.”  
Almost sheepishly, Haru smiled, averting her gaze. “W-well, I was thinking… about possible desserts we could serve at Big Bang Burger. Though, I suppose we shouldn’t worry about serving anything _too_ fancy.”

Makoto gave an amused shake of her head, “You know, there’s nothing wrong with being a little self-indulgent sometimes. You can enjoy a parfait without saying it’s for research.”

“Oh,” Haru gave a nervous chuckle, “Well, I guess I _have_ been in the mood for something sweet.” She paused, looking over her friend with a fond, almost teasing look, “But, Mako-chan, aren’t you the one who’s always overworking yourself? Maybe you should start taking your own advice.”

Makoto gave an amused hum, soft smile on her face, “Touché.”

The two young women walked down the crowded streets. From the corner of her eye, Haru spotted a patch of bleach blond hair. At first, she believed it must have belonged to a tourist. This part of the city was always full of foreigners after all. But after a second glance, she noticed, beside the blond boy was the familiar fluffy black hair she had come to recognize well. Their eyes seemed to have caught each other at the same time. She felt trapped in his gaze; as though something was keeping her from looking away. He smiled gently, lifting his hand in a wave, grabbing both girls’ attention. Makoto was the first to speak.

“Ryuji, Ren. What are you guys doing here?”

The blond—Ryuji, was it?—spoke first, “Well hello to you too Makoto. It’s been a while.”

Makoto let out a light laugh, “It has. Did you start spring break too? How are classes for you? Did you pass your exams?”

Ryuji gave an exasperated groan, “I don’t wanna talk about exams when we’re supposed to be on break. Can we change the subject?”

Kurusu gave a sigh of his own, accompanied by a shake of his head. His gaze shifted from Makoto to Haru. A familiar warmth rushed to her face, and Haru hoped her rosy cheeks weren’t noticeable. Perhaps she could blame it on the crisp spring air.

“What are you two up to?” Kurusu asked.

Before Haru had the chance, Makoto answered for her, “Oh, Haru and I were just heading out to a café.”

All eyes now on her, Haru was sure her colorful cheeks were noticeable now. Clearing her throat, as casual as she could, she said, “Yes. We were just going to try some new desserts. Would you like to join?”

She was looking at Kurusu when she said it. She would have preferred if it were just the two of them, but she wasn’t opposed to more company.

The blond—Ryuji—spoke up again, “A café huh? That sounds nice. But Ren, Yusuke, and I already had plans. Maybe next time, uh…” He paused, finally getting a good look at Haru, as if he only now realized he didn’t know her name.

Feeling slightly bashful, Haru stifled a nervous laugh, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Haru—um…” She snuck a glance at Makoto, before continuing, “Okada. It’s nice to meet you.”

Haru didn’t miss Makoto raising her brow curiously. She decided to ignore her friend, turning her attention to the blond, “And you are?”

He smiled brightly, “Name’s Ryuji. Ryuji Sakamoto. Nice to meet ya Okada.”

It felt strange hearing that name. As though her brain still wasn’t registering it as her own. Sure, it wasn’t her true name. She knew that. But she couldn’t bring herself to say her family name, knowing the weight that was attached to it.

For the first time since he arrived, Kurusu spoke up, “Maybe we could hang out together some other time.” He said, eyes landing on her. Did he mean just the two of them? Or was she simply reading too much into it? Did he want to get to know her better, or was he humoring her last statement? They run into each other so often, they could be considered acquaintances by now, right?

So caught up in her own headspace, Makoto had to be the one to speak up for her. “Sounds like a plan. Maybe we could all meet up for sushi.”

Giving a wave before turning away, Kurusu looked right at her and said, “I’ll see you around.”

She wanted to deny that he was talking to her specifically. But he was looking her in the eye when he said it. Though, she could have easily been overthinking.

Before she could allow herself to think about it further, Makoto turned to her, eyebrow raised. “So.” Her hand was on her hip, as she gave Haru a look between amusement and curiosity, “Haru _Okada_ , huh?”

She had almost forgotten about that small detail. Trying and failing to hold in a nervous laugh, Haru averted her gaze to the ground, “That’s… a complicated story.”

Makoto tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “Well, we’ve got plenty of time to talk. Let’s get to that café and order those parfaits you wanted.”

* * *

They didn’t speak immediately. Haru couldn’t help but feel that she was about to be scolded. But Makoto didn’t seem angry, yet Haru’s mind didn’t allow her to rest.

“So.” Makoto said once their desserts were delivered, “Okada?”

“Yes.” Haru spoke softly, eyes never leaving her dish, “I just thought… maybe I’d make more friends if they didn’t know about my family connections.”

Makoto didn’t look judgmental. In fact, she almost seemed sympathetic. “I see.” She took a small bite of her dessert. “Well, Ren’s a sweet guy. I’m sure he wouldn’t have cared. But, if that makes you more comfortable, then who am I to say.”

That made Haru smile. Taking a bite of her parfait, she finally met her friend’s gaze, “Thank you Mako-chan. And I promise I’ll come clean about my family in the future.” Did it count as a lie if even she didn’t know if it was true? What did the future look like for Haru Okumura? Did a future where she could come clean about her family’s connections—while keeping her friendships intact—even exist?

She pondered this exact thought when she and Makoto departed for the evening. On the train, she didn’t remember time going by. She couldn’t even recall when she got off. Snapping out of her trance, she saw her feet had taken her to the underground mall. As she made her way to her destination, the flower shop in her field of vision, Haru had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if he wasn’t there? And why was she so adamant about getting to know this man? Was it his kindness? Was she truly that deprived of any gentleness that she’d go out of her way to seek it from someone she wasn’t familiar with? But wasn’t that why she was seeking him out in the first place? So, she could get to know him?

There was a pause in her step, as the more logical side of her mind took over. But even if they were to get to know each other, what then? When she became friends with Makoto, she felt even that was too much. She knew any relationship she had now would be ripped from her the moment she graduated. So why did she seek these friendships out, knowing full well they won’t last?

Taking in a breath of courage, Haru made her way to the flower shop. Low and behold, there stood Ren Kurusu, in his apron, tending the flowers of the shop. She cleared her throat, grabbing his attention.

“Hello, Okada.” He said, walking over to her, giving her a small smile. “What can I do for you today?”

Every rational thought in her mind ceased to exist at that very moment. Why did she come here? She didn’t need any new fertilizer anytime soon. Seeds? Did she have any room for new ones?

As if sensing her distress, Kurusu spoke up, “We had a new delivery of flowers come in today. Want to take a look?”

Haru gave a soft sigh in relief before responding, “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” Perhaps she could use this opportunity to buy more flower seeds.

Taking a look at the colorful display of flowers, Haru was overwhelmed with the variety of new choices. Normally, before she bought any new seeds, she’d do her research to see what kind of care was required. He hummed out in thought, “How about I let you choose.” She said, sending Kurusu a smile, “You seem to know more about flowers than I do.”

Letting out a thoughtful hum of his own, placing his hands in his pockets, he casually went over to the display of flowers. He seemed to have taken her request seriously, his eyes laser-focused on each individual flower. Finally, he pulled out a seed packet and a singular purple flower. He came over to her, handing her the packets and a singular flower. Despite knowing the reason why he was handing her said flower was strictly because of his job, it didn’t stop Haru's cheeks from heating up as she took it.

“Peonies?” She read out loud. The flower itself was a soft pink color with gentle and elegant petals. “What’s the meaning of this flower?” She asked softly.

Without missing a beat, and the smallest hint of a sly grin—so small and quick, Haru wondered if she imagined it—he said, “Bashfulness.” 

As if on cue, a familiar warmth engulfed her cheeks. Clearing her throat, as casually as she could, she said, “Oh really?” She didn’t dare meet his gaze; her eyes set on the flower in her hand.

He didn’t respond directly; he simply stole a side glance at the flower before saying, “Is that fine, or—”

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation, a smile on her face, “These will be the flowers I’ll be buying today.”

This smile he sent her was much more noticeable. It was a simple one, nothing too grand. “Good choice.”

As Haru placed her money in the tray on the counter and waited for Kurusu to ring her up, she was surprised to hear it was him who spoke up first, “You’re still on for sushi, yeah?”

She blinked in surprise, trying to pull back any memory of making plans to sushi. “Oh, that’s right!” She remembered. When they ran into each other in Kichijoji. “I thought you were only inviting Mako-ch—er, Makoto.”

Handing her the bag of seeds and her change, he also handed her the single peony from earlier. She didn’t remember buying that, and before she could speak up about it, Kurusu held his finger to his lip, pursing his lips in a soft “shh.” She stood there, frozen in place for a moment before he spoke up again.

“We won’t mind if you come. Makoto’s mentioned you a few times, so it’s fine.”

For some odd reason, that made Haru’s shoulders deflate slightly. So, he was inviting her because she was a friend of Makoto’s? That wasn’t too bad, but a small part of her was hoping he was inviting her because she piqued his interest. She silently berated herself for that thought. Why would she care if rather or not she interested Kurusu? Sure, she wouldn’t mind if they became friends. But a part of her also felt guilty for wanting that. More friends just meant more heartache for her when she would inability have to leave her old life behind to be nothing more than a bargaining chip for her father’s career. Having friends would just make things more complicated. And yet…

“Alright.” Haru said, holding the flower close to her chest, “I’ll see you there.”

And yet, she couldn’t fight back the urge. She was doomed to be alone in a loveless marriage anyway, so she might as well enjoy the welcoming company of others while she could.

Kurusu gave a slight nod, hands back in his pockets. “I’m looking forward to it.”


	6. Photo Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the original plan was to post this on Monday but... why not Christmas eve. Hope everyone's enjoying the holiday season 🎄

They agreed to meet up at the Ginza Line Gate. It was Makoto who informed her. Haru couldn’t remember the last time she spent time with a large group. Had she ever? She remembered going to office parties with her father, though those were more formal. She never spoke. She never knew what to say at those events, for fear of embarrassing her father. But she wasn’t meeting with big and important businessmen in suits. She was meeting Makoto’s friends, all of whom were in her age group. Despite knowing this, she couldn’t fight off her nerves.

A part of her was excited at the idea of meeting new people. But she couldn’t fight off the fear that she’ll make a bad first impression. Or worse; the fear that someone may recognize her. She was lucky Haru _Okada_ hasn’t been called out yet. Makoto could have easily done so, but thankfully she didn’t.

Now, getting off the train, Haru checked her phone for any text from Makoto. Her friend did say they’d all meet at the Ginza Line, but she didn’t spot any familiar faces. For a moment, she wondered if she was too late and they already left. But she knew Makoto wouldn’t do that. Surely she would text or call her first. Pushing her invasive thoughts away, Haru took notice of the bread shop nearby. The sign above read “Yon-Germain Bakery” and the smell of freshly baked goods caused Haru’s stomach to growl. Thankfully there weren’t too many people around, but that didn’t stop her cheeks from warming up. That morning she had eaten a light breakfast, thinking she would need to save room for the sushi she would be eating. But now, standing alone at a bakery, the savory smells beckoning her, she couldn’t help but slip into temptation. What harm could her buying one melon pan do? It could hold her off until they reach the restaurant at least. 

“Okada-san.”

Like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar, Haru yelped in surprise. Turning to the sound of her false name, relief washed over her when she saw it was Kurusu.

“Sorry,” He rubbed the nape of his neck, almost sheepish, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Haru shook her head, “No, you just startled me is all.”

His eyes drifted toward the bread display, “Were you going to buy something.”

Despite being dressed in a light spring dress, Haru felt as if she would overheat, “N-no. I was just looking.” As if on cue, her stomach decided to growl. If she wasn’t hot in the face before, her cheeks were now a burning inferno.

He smiled softly, “I’m sure a little bread won’t hurt. Are you tight on cash?”

“No.” She said, a bit too quickly. Kurusu had already done so much for her. Besides, she’d feel a bit guilty if he spent money on her. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the funds to pay for herself. But there was no way he knew that. “It’s alright. I can pay for myself. But thank you for the offer.”

She placed her order for a sweet-smelling melon pan. It was freshly baked, warm to the touch. Her mouth watered at the aroma and for a moment she forgot she had company. The last time she remembered eating sweet bread was when she was in high school. Those felt like simpler days. Taking a bite, Haru let out a blissful hum. Suddenly remembering that she wasn’t alone, she covered her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry.” She said, voice slightly muffled, “I must have been hungrier than I realized.”

“That’s alright,” Kurusu said as he leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone. He seemed more amused than bored. "It's cute."

The words Haru might have said were lost in the midst of her coughing fit. Kurusu leaned off the wall, brows furrowed in mild concern. She held her hand up, stopping him from coming any further. "Sorry. I just swallowed wrong is all." She lied through her teeth.

He didn't look convinced, but his face did soften, "If you're sure."

Why did such a simple compliment get such a reaction out of her? Was it because it was so unexpected? He said it so casually too, with no hint of nervousness in his voice. She decided to distract herself with another bite of the bread, her eyes hyper-focused on her shoes. 

Not too far from where they stood, from the corner of her eye, Haru noticed a young girl who looked a bit younger than her. Her long ginger hair cascaded down her back, thick square glasses framing her perfectly round face. She had a look of mischief gracing her face as she crept closer to Kurusu. Her eyes seemed focused on the young man alone, as she made her way to his side. Slowly, she took in a deep breath, then out, letting a loud “Boo!” out in the process. 

Kurusu didn’t react. Still focused on his phone, he said almost deadpan, “Hey Futaba. You come by yourself?”

The young girl—Futaba-chan?—let out a dejected sigh, “I swear, you’re impossible to surprise. Do you have some kind of spidey sense?”

“Yup,” Ren responded, not missing a beat.

The young girl huffed, “One of these days I’ll catch you off guard. Just you wait.” Her bright brown eyes finally landed on Haru and almost instantly her demeanor changed. Taking a step closer to Kurusu, voice much softer she said, “O-oh, hello.”

Kurusu turned off his phone, placing it in his pocket, “Sorry. Guess I forgot to introduce you two.” Turning to the young girl at his side he said, “Futaba this is Haru Okada, a friend of Makoto’s. Okada-san, this is Futaba.”

Futaba’s meek air vanished the instant she heard Haru’s name. Her expression switched to something more teasing, “Okada huh? I think Ren’s mentioned you a few times.”

That caught Haru by surprise. “Is that so?”

Kurusu’s body seemed tense, his jaw set so tight, Haru wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked a tooth.

Futaba gave a playful hum, “Yup. Don’t worry, it’s been good things.”

“Futaba.” Kurusu’s voice was sharp but not at all unkind, “Where’s everyone else?”

Not at all fazed by his shift in tone, Futaba shrugged, “Dunno. I was hoping to run into you earlier but you’re too fast.”

Watching the exchange, Haru wondered if she was as out of place as she felt. They seemed close, with the way they spoke so casually. They were obviously comfortable with each other. It was endearing to watch, but she couldn’t deny that small part of her that felt a little left out.

Before she had the chance to think about it further, Makoto made her appearance, accompanied by the guy with the bleached blond hair they met in Kichijoji, and two unfamiliar faces. One of whom was a young woman with blonde hair in pigtails and the most gorgeous blue eyes Haru had ever seen. The person standing beside her was a tall young man with a slim, almost graceful figure. He carried himself much differently than the blond— Sakamoto, was it?—they ran into the other day.

Makoto met the trio with a smile, “Hey, sorry we’re late. Our train was running a little late.”

The taller man gave an amused chuckle, “It was a nice coincidence running into each other on the way here.”

Haru took notice of his gray eyes. Upon first inspection, they looked dark blue. Even his hair was so dark, it had a blue shine to it. His eyes were full of curiosity as they met with hers. “Oh, I’m sorry. You must be Makoto’s friend we’ve heard about. I’m Yusuke Kitagawa. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

All eyes on here, Haru tried to swallow down her bundle of nerves. Summoning any ounce of confidence she could find, she said brightly, “It’s nice to meet you too, Kitagawa-kun.”

The blonde girl with pigtails spoke up next, “Hi! It’s nice to finally meet you! Makoto’s mentioned you a few times before.”

Feeling a bit sheepish, Haru let out a nervous chuckle, “Is that so? I hope it was all good things.”

Makoto tucked a stray hair behind her ear, a playfully stern look on her face, “Of course, why wouldn’t they be?”

Before Haru could get a word in, Sakamoto’s voice broke through, “Alright! The gangs all here! Let’s get going before the next train leaves.”

The girl with the pigtails gave a bright smile, “Someone’s excited. Ooh, maybe we could get ice cream crepes for dessert.”

Futaba gave a light hum, “Crepes huh? I was thinking something a little more savory. Like ramen!"

Makoto shook her head with a sigh, “We haven’t even gotten to the sushi restaurant yet. Besides, sushi’s expensive. We’d be lucky to afford even _thinking_ about dessert, let alone ramen.”

Haru tried to hold back a light chuckle. It was just like Makoto to be the voice of reason. Everyone seemed nice and welcoming so far. Though she shouldn’t have excepted anything less from friends of Makoto.

The blonde with pigtail’s smile never faltered, “Than let me pay for the crepes. I’ve got some money to splurge, so it’s fine.”

Makoto seemed a bit hesitant at first, “If that’s okay with you.”

Kurusu cleared his throat, calling everyone’s attention to him, “Let’s get going.”

* * *

Everyone was seated together, their menus in hand. Makoto and the blonde with pigtails—who had introduced herself as Ann Takamaki—were seated next to Haru. She seemed especially more interested in getting to know her, almost overwhelming Haru with questions.

“So,” Takamaki spoke over her menu, “Okada-san, how did you meet Makoto?”

Haru took a sip of her water, forgetting her false name for a moment. Once she realized Takamaki was talking to her, she placed her cup down, a sheepish look on her face, “Oh, um, we had a group project together. There were two others in the group too, but Mako-chan and I did most of the work.”

Sakamoto let out a groan upon hearing that, “Ugh, I hate group projects. There’s always that one guy who never pulls his weight, then the rest of the group has to suffer.”

The conversations went by a lot smoother than Haru expected. Eating and having a casual conversation that was in no way related to business was refreshing to say the least. Their food eventually came by, as everyone enjoyed their meal.

Makoto wiped some soy sauce from her mouth with her napkin, her scarlet eyes set on Takamaki, “So, Ann, what’s it like studying overseas?”

Futaba perked up upon hearing this, “Ooh, got a hot foreign boyfriend yet?”

Takamaki choked on her food. Eyes watering, she took her glass of water, gulping it down. After catching her breath, her glistening eyes landed on a mischievous looking Futaba, “Where did _that_ come from?”

But Futaba didn’t react. She simply plopped her food in her mouth with an innocent expression on her face. “What? I’m just curious. You’re the only one here with anything interesting going on.”

Haru bit her tongue. If only they knew her full story. Though, sometimes even Haru had a hard time believing it.

Kitagawa, who had mostly kept to himself while eating, seemed to zone into the conversation, “You know, I used to think you and Ryuji would end up together.”

“What?” Both blonds said in surprise, causing the rest of the table to snicker. Everyone but Makoto, who shushed the two, perhaps taking notice of the stares from the other tables. 

Despite the ruckus—or perhaps because of the ruckus—Haru found their banter charming. Endearing even. She couldn’t help but feel just a little out of place, though they never made her feel unwelcomed. She hoped in the future she’d be able to speak with them as casually as they do with each other. Even with everyone speaking amongst themselves, Haru couldn’t help but notice, even around his own group of friends, Kurusu was quiet as usual. Was that just the way he was? It did make her feel slightly better, now knowing that he wasn’t quite around her because he was uncomfortable. Even so, she couldn't deny, her want to get to know him better was strong. 

“Um, Kurusu-kun?” When his gaze met hers, she almost forgot what she was going to say. Collecting her composure, she said, “I’ve been wondering for a while now. Are you a student by chance?”

“Yes. A psychology major.”

Haru blinked in surprise. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she was excepting, but it wasn’t that. He had so many jobs around town, she wondered where he found the time to go to school.

“Surprised?” His voice pulled Haru out of her musings, “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Oh, um…” It took a lot longer than it probably should have for her to notice his playful tone. Was he teasing? She decided to play along. Thinking back, he seemed to know his way around flowers, but that felt too obvious. She remembered how good his coffee was, and how confidant he was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables gracefully without missing a beat. “Well, I wouldn’t have thought twice if you told me you were studying to become a chef.”

He seemed to have liked that response, the smallest hint of a smirk gracing his lips.

Takamaki chimed in, a thoughtful, almost dreamy look on her face, “Oh yeah, Ren makes the best curry. I haven’t had any in so long.”

As the conversation around the table went on, Haru listened contently to the colorful bunch. One would think that a group like this would bicker and clash—though they did seem to have their moments. But there was no malice in the way they spoke to or teased one another. There was no denying that they were all close. As she sat back in her chair, Haru decided to commit this moment to memory. Perhaps, in the future, if she were ever feeling down or lonely, she could recall a time like this. Like a photo memory only she could see. Maybe that could be enough to keep her going.

* * *

Haru breathed in the sweet spring air as they made their way out of the restaurant. There were a few sakura petals dotting the streets, pavement wet from the light rain. Haru took notice of the box of left-over sushi in Kurusu’s hands.

“Saving some sushi for later?” She asked.

“You could say that.” He said, a hint of a smile on his face, “It’s for my cat.”

That caught her by surprise, “Oh, I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Maybe you could meet him sometime.”

That caught Haru's attention. She’d always loved cats, but always felt she was too busy to own one. She also knew Sugimura didn’t like pets, so she didn’t see herself owning one anytime soon. The thought of her fiancé caused her mood to falter. Why did her mind have to bring him up at the worst possible times? She was having such a nice time too. Shoving away any thought of him from her mind, Haru tried to summon back her previous mood, a sweet smile on her face, “That would be nice. I love cats, so I’d love to meet him.” Before she could comment further, Haru’s purse buzzed. Her mind filled with dread as she ran through the possible callers. It couldn’t be Makoto, since she was standing right beside her. That narrowed it down to two, and Haru wasn’t excited about either candidate. Opening up the messages on her phone, she was slightly relieved to see it was her father. That relief was short-lived, however, when she saw the text. Sugimura’s parents were coming over for dinner, and her father excepted her to be home and dressed for the occasion. Her heart sank.

“I’m sorry guys, but I have to be somewhere.” She said as she put her phone back in her purse. She tried her hardest not to sound dejected, not wanting to worry them unnecessarily.

Makoto didn’t look convinced, her eyes seeing right through her, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course.” Her smile faltered, but only for a second, “I just have family business to take care of.”

Makoto’s face relaxed a little upon hearing that, “Alright then. I guess we’ll see you another time.”

She gave them a wave, face never changing while they were in her sight. The moment she turned the corner, she let out a long sigh, already dreading the night to come.


	7. Call Me by My Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first post of 2021!

The last time Haru had been in her childhood home, was when she was packing to move to the apartment that her father rented out for her. It was closer to the university. Her father was hesitant, but eventually agreed but on one condition: the housekeeper had to keep an eye on her.

Standing in her old bedroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. When her father said to come over for dinner, she was excepting something small. Turns out he was hosting a charity event alongside Sugimura’s family at a banquet hall. With the number of photographers and reporters from big named magazines and news sites, it was made obvious to Haru this party was purely for receiving good publicity. Her father had only called her over so she could get dressed for the event and arrive there with her father and her fiancé’s family. To sell the image of the perfect and successful family.

Perhaps she should be grateful that there was more party guest than she excepted. If it were just her father and future in-laws, she wouldn’t have survived the night. It’ll be easier to blend into the background. Maybe she could even sneak away once her fiancé had one too many drinks.

Looking around her bedroom, nothing was an inch out of place. It was as if she never left. The room was obviously cared for in her absence. Not a single speck of dust could be found. Her bed and blankets were so firm and finely made, one could bounce a coin off it. She resisted the urge to collops on its surface, getting under the blankets and allowing herself to be buried under the cloud-like duvet.

But the knock on the door from her impatient father reminded her of the little time she had to herself.

“Haru,” His voice was muffled behind the door, “Our driver’s here to pick us up. Are you ready?”

She ran to her mirror, checking her appearance. Not a single strand of hair seemed out of place. Her dress was a simple baby pink that stopped at her knees. It was buried deep in her closet and she couldn’t remember if she’d ever worn it.

Collecting her shoes, she made her way to her bedroom door. With a sigh, she mentally prepared herself for the night ahead.

* * *

The event went the same as it always did. Her father spoke to a few guests, making quips and jokes. Out of habit, she was by his side, a flute of champagne in her hand. Her father had given her quick glances, expression unreadable. She thought nothing of it while in the moment. It wasn’t until he excused himself, pulling Haru away with him did her anxiety surface. The look he gave her was disapproving.

“What are you doing?” He asked, voice stern.

“I—”

“You’ve left your fiancé alone. Not once have I seen you speak with him. What will his parents think?”

Her shoulders tensed as her eyes drifted to the floor. “He… seemed busy.”

Her father hummed disapprovingly. Haru searched the room for her fiancé. He was by the buffet table, drink at hand, businessmen in suits and a few dressed up woman by his side. Haru swallowed thickly before giving her father one last look. A small part of her hoped he’d change his mind—hoped he tell her that she could stay with him. Like she did when she was a timid child and would stay behind him to hide from strangers, tiny hands clinging to his pants leg. He’d chuckle and go on with his conversation, allowing his daughter to use him as her personal shield. But today there was no comforting smile or amused laugh. Only a disapproving frown. It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did when he sent her away.

Slowly, she made her way in the direction of her fiancé. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and, if not for her father’s gaze piercing her back, she might have made herself invisible in the crowd. The closer she got, the slower her steps became. She couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or if her body was unconsciously slowing down on its own. Once she was close enough, Sugimura’s eyes met hers and she had to keep herself from fleeing. She hoped her smile didn’t come across as fake.

When she finally met Sugimura by his side, his smile unsettled her. When his hand met the small of her back, her stomach turned, and it took everything in her not to pull away.

“Haru!” Sugimura’s voice was thick with false delight, “So good of you to show.” He turned to the businessmen, “This is my fiancé, Haru Okumura.”

“Okumura, huh?” A man with salt and pepper hair said, “I’ve been hearing that name a lot lately. It’s nice to meet you, young lady.”

Haru sent back a smile and a slight bow of her head, “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

An older woman examined Haru closely, eyes narrowed. She tried not to fidget under the woman’s judgmental gaze, but it grew harder by the second. Something about her felt familiar, but Haru couldn’t put a name to her face. After the older woman took a sip of her drink, she finally spoke, “So, is there a date? As the mother of the future groom, I’d like to know these things.”

Oh! Sugimura’s mother.

“Next spring.” Sugimura answered for her, “Though if it were up to me it’d be this summer.”

Everyone but Haru laughed. Hers was more of a nervous chuckle.

Sugimura’s mother took another sip of her drink, face never changing. “Do let me know when you plan on organizing the wedding. I’d like to be apart of the planning. I even had a wedding dress that’s been passed down through the family. We’ll need to schedule a fitting for it early, of course.”

Haru’s smile faltered, but for only a second. “Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”

The woman only hummed in acknowledgment, face never changing. Did she not approve of the engagement? Did she think Haru was unworthy of her son? Haru couldn’t fault her for that, if that were the case. She was young and inexperienced. If not for her family’s wealth, what else could she bring to the table? Her vegetable garden? Her family would be considered “new money.” The only legacy to her family’s name was her grandfather’s old café and her father’s less than pristine reputation.

Or perhaps Sugimura’s mother was simply a stoic woman, and Haru was allowing her self-conscious thoughts to get the better of her. Letting out a sigh, Haru tried to concentrate on the conversation. “Young love,” and “first love” kept slipping from everyone’s tongue. Wedding disasters and scandals. Some son of a CEO was caught with his mistress while out on a business trip in Hawaii. Apparently, he felt trapped in a loveless marriage. His wife has been rumored to have only married him for money. The conversation somehow shifted to whispers about royals getting a divorce. All topics Haru didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t spook the bride-to-be!” One of them chastised, “They haven’t even said ‘I do’ and you’re already talking about divorce?”

Haru gave a tight-lipped smile, shoulders so tense, her neck was starting to ache. She needed a moment to breathe. Silence. And maybe a glass of water. “Excuse me.” She tried to gracefully remove herself from the circle of executives, but Sugimura was quick to grab her shoulder before she had a chance to move.

“Everything alright?” He asked. The mock concern in his voice made Haru’s skin crawl.

“Yes.” Her cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the fake smiles she’d been giving out the whole night, “I just need to freshen up.”

One of the older gentlemen gave an amused laugh, “Let her go, Sugimura-san. You know how women can be when it comes to their make-up. You should be happy you have a fiancée who wants to look pretty for you.”

Haru had to bite her tongue to keep down a dry heave.

Sugimura was silent for a moment. He knew her well enough to know she was running away. It’s what she always did. She’d be hearing about this later from her father, no doubt.

“Alright.” He said, releasing her shoulder, “Just hurry back.”

* * *

She didn’t hurry back. She stayed in the bathroom for most of the night, only peeking out the women’s door to make sure no one was searching for her. Once she saw her fiancé shamelessly flirting with a sophisticated looking young woman, she knew he had completely forgotten about his missing fiancée. He’d be someone else’s problem tonight. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Haru called up her driver to pick her up. Mori showed up in record time. She felt like a teenager, sneaking out of her parent’s house past midnight.

She made it back to her apartment without incident. Not text or calls. They probably hadn’t noticed she’d left. There was no doubt Sugimura would be bringing home some random woman. It wouldn’t be a first for him. Haru was never bothered because it meant his eyes would be on someone else. The girls he’d talk to always seemed swayed by his words. Haru was never up close and personal when Sugimura would flirt. But he never came off as pushy with other women. Maybe he was only vulgar with her because he knew she had no choice but to deal with it. They were already engaged; there was no need to win her affection.

Waking up the next morning, Haru found she had fallen asleep with her dress and make-up. Her phone was on her pillow, and she saw she had a text from Makoto.

 **Hope everything’s alright with you and your family** , it read.

Haru smiled as she texted back: **yes, everything’s fine. Thank you for asking.**

Getting out of bed, Haru headed to her bathroom. Placing her phone on the counter, she examined her face in the mirror. She’d be at it for awhile removing this make-up. She sighed to herself, already exhausted.

Her phone pinged, signaling another text from Makoto.

**That’s good to hear. Maybe the two of us can go get crepes sometime before break is over. What do you say?**

Haru smiled and sent back, **I’d love to!**

She looked back to the mirror, suddenly refreshed now that she had something to look forward to.

* * *

Haru decided to go for a walk in Inokashira Park for some much-needed fresh air. In the midst of spring, the sakura blossoms were in full bloom, covering the river in a soft pastel pink glow. With school out, there was a lot of young couples admiring the scenery. Some were pedaling in swan-shaped boats in the pond, while others ate lunch together on one of the benches. A young boy whispered something in a young girl’s ear, and her cheeks reddened as she giggled like a lovesick schoolgirl. Haru wondered what it must feel like to go on dates with someone you loved. Did people typically plan them together, or did one surprise the other?

Eyes set on the lake, leaning on the wooden fence, a boat passed her by, and Haru thought about how magical it would be to have a first kiss on one. It’d be in the evening, the setting sun glittering off the water’s surface. He’d cup her face, and she’d see the light reflect off those stormy gray eyes—

Wait.

Gray eyes framed by messy black hair filled her daydream and Haru’s cheeks overheated.

“Okada-san?”

She had to be hallucinating because now she could hear his voice. Maybe she was back in her bed at her apartment, sleeping soundly, and everything had been a dream.

“Everything alright?”

Blinking, she saw Kurusu standing next to her, brows knit together in concern. His voice was as clear as day. She bit the inside of her mouth and winced with the pain. This wasn’t a dream.

“Kurusu-kun!” She said, voice higher than she’d like. Clearing the throat, she continued, “What are you doing here?”

He pointed behind him with his thumb, “Ann had a photoshoot here. She asked me to tag along. They left a while ago, so I decided to take a walk.”

“O-oh.” She locked her eyes with the water again, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Me too. I mean, I also decided to go for a walk.” Despite the cool spring breeze, Haru’s face was much too hot for her liking. She tried to change the subject, “The sakura blossoms look beautiful this time of year.”

He averted his gaze, eyes scanning the pink trees. “Yeah. Air’s fresher too.” Silence. Then, “Schools’ll be starting up again soon.”

“Yeah.” Her face was starting to cool off, but she kept her eyes on the water.

“And I was wondering…” Hands in his pockets, Haru could sense his gaze on her face, “If you wanted to exchange numbers?”

Haru didn’t register what he said immediately. It was as if her brain was static, trying to catch a single. Once she received the message, she froze. “O-oh.” She finally looked him in the face, but his expression was unreadable.

They pulled out their phones and exchanged numbers with one another. She had to fight back the bubbly giddy feeling that made her want to grin uncontrollably.

Stuffing his phone into his pocket, there was a shadow of a smile on Kurusu’s face. When she blinked, his face was back to that unreadable expression.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Okada-san.”

Haru grimaced at the use of her false name. She was reminded of the invisible barrier between them whenever she heard it. Would a day ever come when she could tell him her real name? If everything went the way her father had planned, this time next year she’d be out of Kurusu's life. She didn’t want that, but it was the way it needed to be. Despite knowing this, she couldn’t fight off the want to get closer to him. Biting her tongue, she debated what to say next. “Um,” that called his attention and she had no choice but to continue, “You can just call me Haru.”

He paused, obvious surprise in his eye. He blinked a few times before a smile spread across his face, “Alright, Haru.”

Her heart leaped into her throat at the sound of her name flowing from his lips. It sounded so nice, his voice like smooth velvet. It echoed in her head, refusing to leave.

“You can call me Ren.”

She spoke his name before she could catch it, “Ren.” It sounded softer coming from her tongue. She liked the way it sounded. “Then, I guess I’ll see you around Ren.”

Despite the almost giddy feeling in her chest, Haru couldn’t fight off the thought that this was a mistake. Growing bonds and friendships she knew couldn’t last. But would she rather be alone until she’s married off next year? No, of course not. She’d be miserable without an outlet outside of her father and fiancé to talk to. Despite knowing this, she couldn’t fight off the growing guilt. She’d have to cut off these relationships eventually, but for now, she wanted to forget. She wanted to live like everyone else who got to enjoy their lives without a set time limit.


	8. Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad P5's soundtrack was added to Spotify. But I can't listen while I write, because I just lose my mind whenever "Last Surprise" starts playing lol. "Beneath the Mask (Rain)" is relaxing to write to though. Helps me focus.

She was supposed to be reading. Her piles of textbooks sat untouched at her side, as Haru sat in the library of her university, eyes glued to her phone. The new semester had started that week, and she was already drowning in projects. It was a nice distraction from her personal life, but she desperately needed a moment to come up to the surface to breathe.

It had been a week since she exchanged numbers with Ren. Every time she’d try and muster up the courage to send him a text, she’d freeze. What would she say? Would it be too forward to ask him how his day was going? What if he was in the middle of class? Or… or…

She sighed to herself, resting her head atop her folded arms. Or what? If he were busy, he could simply send her a text later. He obviously wouldn’t mind having a conversation with her, otherwise, he never would have given her his number. She hummed to herself, searching her brain for a topic of discussion. Going through her pictures on her phone, she came across a photo of her garden. It was on the balcony of her apartment, overlooking the city skyline. It showcased her herbs and vegetables, the light of the sun making the water droplets glisten. The peonies weren’t in full bloom, but they were peeking out from under the dirt. It was her favorite photo. She didn’t consider herself a photographer—nor was she literate with cameras enough to even play with the idea of being one—but the photo always stuck out to her. Gardening was always peaceful for Haru, and she somehow managed to capture that relaxing atmosphere on camera.

Opening her messages, she attached the picture and sent: **Good evening Ren-kun! My flowers are finally starting to sprout!**

She read the text, thumb hovering over ‘send.’ She was so close to deleting it. So close to shutting off her phone, throwing it into her bag, and getting back to her studies. Instead, she took a deep breath, ripped off the band-aid, and hit send. Then she waited. And waited. And waited.

Of course, he wouldn’t send her a text immediately and it was silly of her to except otherwise. Yet she couldn’t help but deflate slightly at the silent state of her phone. Was she too formal? Or too forward? She shook her head, trying to fill her thoughts with a more logical explanation. He could be busy. He was a student with many— _many_ —part-time jobs after all.

She let out a sigh as she placed her phone face down on the table. Grabbing her book, she opened it and began to read. What Haru needed was a distraction. Not just from her phone, but from her father as well. He didn’t like the stunt she pulled, leaving the party early. She tried to justify why, saying she wasn’t well at the time. He didn’t believe her. Why would he? This wasn’t the first time she did something like this. He came over to her apartment earlier that week, a lecture already flying loose from his tongue the moment she opened the door.

“One of these days,” her father said while scolding her, “you’ll have to grow up, Haru.”

His tone was harsh. But, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. There was no way she could run from her fiancé forever. What was she going to do on their wedding day? And every day after that?

She checked her phone again and sighed. Perhaps what she needed was a better distraction.

* * *

Aside from a girl sitting at the barstool with her laptop on the counter, LeBlanc was empty. The only sounds being the hum of the TV, and the clink of dishes being washed in the sink. Haru made herself comfortable at one of the booths, setting her bag beside her. The young girl at the barstool took a sip of her coffee, her brown eyes catching Haru’s.

“Hey,” The young girl said as she spun towards Haru on her chair, “I know you.”

“Oh!” Haru felt a bit silly for not recognizing her before, “Futaba-chan, right?”

The young girl nodded with a hum, “Yup.” She typed something on her laptop before taking a sip out of her mug, “Ren’s not here today.”

“Huh?” Haru blinked back, caught off guard.

Futaba answered by taking another sip from her mug. The man behind the counter sighed, “Futaba, don’t scare off my customers.” He turned to Haru, “What can I get you? The usual?”  
The fact that Haru frequented the café so often that she had a “usual” was an amusing thought. She smiled, “Yes, I’d like that, thank you.”

Haru pulled out her notebooks and phone, eyeing the screen for new messages. She must have been staring at it longer than she intended because, by the time she came to, her steaming cup of coffee was there to greet her. She sent a smile to the older gentlemen, who had made his way back behind the counter, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave the back of his neck a scratch, “Name’s Sojiro, but most people around here just call me Boss.”

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind.” She sighed softly as she took a sip out of her warm cup. Her eyes fluttered shut as she let out a hum. Opening her eyes, she took in the décor of her surroundings, “This place is always so relaxing.” She whispered out loud.

The older man gave her a gentle smile that felt strangely nostalgic, “Oh yeah? Glad you think so.”

Haru gave a smile of her own as she took another soothing sip of her coffee. She peeked at her books, but she couldn’t muster the energy to read or get started on any of her assignments. She sighed through another sip.

“Your coffee is always so delicious.” Haru said, “I would love to learn how to make something like this.”

Sojiro chuckled as he dried a cup with a rag, “You a coffee lover?”

“I’m more of a tea person, but I have been drinking more coffee as of late.” She hummed, tapping her fingers on the table in thought, “I’d actually like to open a café like this in the future. So, I’m learning all I can in the meantime.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, “That so? Sounds ambitious.” He towel-dried another cup, “do you work in a café? You might build better experience from that. Only so much you can learn from just visiting.”

She… hadn’t thought about that. Her dream to open a café of her own was just that; a fantasy. Something she may never accomplish in her lifetime. Despite knowing this, she couldn’t keep down the small glimmer of hope that maybe—just maybe—she might achieve her goal of owning a café of her own. One like her grandfather’s.

“No,” Haru answered, “I’ve never worked in a coffee shop before.” Or any shop, really. Perhaps working in one could be a good idea. There were probably many secrets and techniques that could only be learned through experience. Working in a shop could also serve as a great distraction from her personal life. It would be nice to have an income that wasn’t connected to her father or his company. She’ll be the first to admit; she was a little sheltered. She wouldn’t know the first thing about working in a shop, let alone managing one. There was only so much a university could teach.

“It might be a good idea,” she said aloud before clarifying, “Working in a shop I mean.”

Futaba, who had been quietly typing away on her laptop, perked up, “Ooh, how about working here? I’m sure Sojiro and Ren would appreciate the extra help!”

“Futaba,” Sojiro’s voice held hints of exasperation before he paused, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually.”

Taken aback, Haru fell quiet. Working at LeBlanc had never crossed her mind. She did find herself here more than her own apartment as of late. Everything about this place reminded her of her grandfather—the food, the welcoming atmosphere, the permanent aroma of coffee etched into the very furniture. It all brought her back to her grandfather’s shop. All things she wished to capture if she ever opened a café of her own.

“Really? You’d hire me?” She had to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the ear. Had to make sure her brain wasn’t imagining this conversation.

“Sure,” he said, placing the last dish in the rack, “if your schedule would allow it. You’re a student, right? Wouldn’t want you overworking yourself.”

Haru tried to hide her excitement, but she was practically vibrating, “I’ll figure something out.” It might be hard to balance her school obligations with a job, but she’d make it work. She _had_ to. This opportunity was exactly what she needed to get through the year. A project she could sink her teeth into. An escape.

The bell to the door rang, notifying everyone of someone’s presence. Sojiro turned to the door, a greeting at the tip of his tongue, before his professional aura melted away into something more casual, “Oh, it’s you. Welcome back.”

“Hey,” said the familiar voice from the door, making Haru freeze. She peeked over her seat, noticing Ren standing by the door wearing a blue top with two orange-yellow stripes with a matching hat and apron. It was obvious he just left work, but Haru wasn’t familiar with the uniform.

When his eyes met hers, he gave her a soft tired smile. He made his way to the booth she was seated at, sitting opposite of her, resting his head in his arms on the table. His head was so close, she could run her fingers through his hair. She drank her coffee instead.

Futaba let out a low whistle, as she turned in her chair, “Long day at the Beef Bowl, huh?”

Ren sniffed.

Sojiro sighed the kind of sigh that indicated that they’d had this conversation before, “They overwork you again?”

Ren balanced his head in the palm of his hand, elbow on the table, eyes heavy but still open, “Two people quit, so we were short on staff. On top of that, we had more customers than usual.”

Sojiro let out a tsk while Futaba simply said, “Why don’t you just quit? Everyone else seems to be jumping ship.”

Ren hummed, closing his eyes, “I’ll think about it.”

He sat so still, Haru thought he had fallen asleep. His brows were slightly furrowed, his fluttering eyelashes being the only sign that he was awake.

“Well,” Futaba spoke up, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ve got good news for you! You’ll have a pair of extra hands helping you out around here!”

That caught his attention, his eyes opening, though his gaze seemed unfocused, “You’re going to help out?”

Futaba rolled her eyes, “No. But Okada is.”

There was a pause as Ren blinked in surprise. He searched her face as if the answer would appear in her eyes. His gaze was wide awake; more intense. Haru had to look away, a familiar pink dusting her cheeks.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Yes. I… I want to experience what it’s like working in a café.” The thought of working side by side with Ren had never crossed her mind until now. They’ll be co-workers.

He smiled softly, “I look forward to working with you.”

There was no doubt in her mind that she was blushing. But she didn’t care. She sent him a smile of her own and said, “Me too.”

* * *

She was preparing to leave, standing outside LeBlanc, arranging the clutter in her school bag, when Ren appeared. He had shut the door behind him, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

Haru bit her lip before saying, “You seem tired. Will you be okay walking home by yourself?”

He gave her a gentle smile full of warmth, “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I live in the area, actually.”

That was a bit more reassuring. Something told her that he was going to collapse the second he was home. “Well, I hope you get plenty of rest. Don’t overdo it, okay?”

He let out a lighthearted chuckle, “Yes ma’am.” He gave his arms a stretch, “I’ll see you around.”

Before she had a chance to walk away, Haru’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her bag, a glimpse of a message lighting up her screen before it faded out to black. She unlocked her phone, bracing herself for the possibility of it being her father or her fiancé. She breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw who the text was from.

**Ren: Glad to see the peonies are coming in nicely.**

**Ren: Make sure to wear something you wont mind getting stained when you come into work.**

**Ren: Don’t worry too much about Sojiro. His brak is worse than his bite.**

**Ren: Don’t tell him I said that tho**

Haru smiled at the messages, her cheeks hurting. While apart of her was looking forward to the job for expanding her experience, another part of her was excited to work with Ren. He seemed to be letting his guard down around her, little by little.

**Haru: Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. It’s going to be fun working with you!**


	9. Coffee and Questions

Haru couldn’t remember the last time she woke up feeling this giddy. Perhaps it was when she was a child and her family spent the day together for Christmas morning. Or her first ballet recital, when her father gave her a bouquet of pink roses; a bouquet so large she couldn’t hold it herself because her hands were so tiny.

Those memories came flooding back, and with them, the urge to tell her father the news. She stopped herself before she reached for her phone, paralyzed by dread. There was a high chance he wouldn’t approve of her having a job. He’d insist on seeing the café for himself, just to deem it unsafe or unbecoming of her to work at an establishment that did nothing for her or her family’s image. No, it might be for the best if LeBlanc stayed as her secret sanctuary. An oasis she could escape to where her fiancé and father couldn’t find her.

Haru received a text from Ren when she exited her morning shower. It read simply: **good luck on your first day**.

It was hard not to smile at her phone. She was doing that a lot lately. The other night, Ren had sent her a video of his cat with a text reading _he found the catnip_ , and she remembered laughing and grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. It was easier speaking to him through text. She didn’t have to worry about getting flustered or embarrassing herself. She only hoped she could keep that up when she worked with him in person.

Sojiro was kind enough to work out a schedule for her, so her workdays didn’t clash with her studies. He even said to her, “feel free to tell me if you’re feeling overwhelmed and need a break.” Ren had made Sojiro out to be stricter, so she was a bit surprised by how flexible he was allowing her to be.

There she sat on the morning train, on her way to her first day on the job at LeBlanc. Hands in her lap, she tried to keep herself from fidgeting. It was crowded that morning, due to it being the middle of the week. Children and teenagers dressed in school uniforms, adult men and women dressed in business attire, all bunched together, shoulder to shoulder. Haru was lucky to have found a seat at all.

There weren’t too many people who got off at her stop, though the area typically didn’t garner much traffic on most days. She had practically learned these streets by heart as she made her way to LeBlanc without a single hiccup or second thought. Opening the door to the café, she was greeted by a drowsy looking Ren and Sojiro, who was seated at one of the bar stools watching the morning news. The sound of the bell called both of their attention, their heads turning to meet her with a greeting.

“Mornin’,” Sojiro said casually.

“Good morning,” Haru responded, more chipper than the early morning should allow. She showed no signs of fatigue, eyes bright, her mind clear and focused. “When do we get started?”

“Someone’s eager.” Amusement was clear in Sojiro’s voice, “You should take notes, Ren.”

Ren only huffed in response, hand massaging the back of his neck. He looked at her, giving her a half-smile, “You’re lucky. It’s been a slow morning.”

It had been a while since she heard his voice in person. It was as soothing and clear as she remembered. “O-oh. That’s good to hear.”

Sojiro ashed his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, “Alright. Let’s start with something simple.”

* * *

Once Haru had her apron, she stood behind the counter while Sojiro showed her the basics. She watched carefully, mentally taking notes as he explained to her what kind of beans he was working with (Guatemala coffee beans, which, according to Sojiro, despite their complex flavor, were a great place to start for beginners. A balanced and sweet flavor, it wasn’t too acidic in taste. Haru made a mental note to order some of her own and experiment from home.)

Sojiro had carefully poured the beans on a scale, explaining to her that getting the measurements just right was crucial for getting the flavor just right. (“Pour too much, and you’ll end up with something too bitter.” He said, “but too little, you’ll end up with something sour.”)

There was a science to brewing coffee. Haru had never thought too much about it before.

Ren, leaning against the counter, hands in his pockets, watched on. The tips of his lip twitched slightly up, a glimmer of mischief shining in his eyes, “You’re being nicer than usual.”

Sojiro let out an exasperated sigh, and Haru had to hold back a giggle. Two elderly customers came into the shop, Sojiro giving them a greeting before turning back to Ren, “Alright. If you’re going to be an ass, I’ll leave this to you.” Despite his tone, Sojiro didn’t look irritated, as though he were used to Ren’s smart-aleck tendencies.

Ren held up his hands in mock surrender, “Fine by me.”

Sojiro rolled his eyes before making his way over to the elderly couple that just came in, ready to take their order.

Now alone with Ren at the counter, Haru realized that it may be harder to focus with him by her side.

“So.” Ren gestured to the beans in front of them, “Are you up for a practice cup?”

“Oh,” That caught her off guard. She searched her mind for an answer, “Sure. I guess I could give it a try.”

Sojiro was in the kitchen, making two fresh omelets the elderly couple had ordered. While Ren worked on the couple’s coffees, he managed to keep an eye on Haru, giving her guidance and instructions on brewing her cup. She was acutely aware of how close he was. Sneaking a peek at the booths, she saw Ren had already served the elderly couple their cups, meaning his full attention was now on her. She swallowed thickly, forcing her mind to focus on the task in front of her, trying to remember every bit of information she learned that morning. Once her brew was finished, she set her cup on the counter, presenting it to Ren, who took it graciously.

She waited with bated breath, watching as he took one long sip. He let out a thoughtful hum, eyes focused on the cup. A smile cracked across his face, “not bad. It’s a lot better than my first attempt.”

Haru sighed in relief, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. She poured a cup of her own, taking a sip, letting the warm delicate flavor rest on her tongue. She hummed at the taste, wincing slightly at the bitter after taste. “It’s not as good as Boss’s coffee. I can’t help but feel like it’s missing something.”

Ren took another sip, brows furrowed slightly in thought. “I still think it’s pretty good for a first try.”

Once Sojiro was done with delivering the plates of food for the elderly couple, he came over to taste Haru’s coffee. He smiled, impressed, saying, “It’s leagues better than Ren’s first try,” making Ren scoff. “I do see some room for improvement though.” He continued, ignoring Ren, “but overall, not bad.”

She smiled, pride swelling in her chest. She thought that perhaps Ren had just been being nice before, but hearing that compliment from Sojiro was reassuring. He was a professional, after all. He would know what he was talking about.

Despite the slow day, Haru was a diligent worker; washing dishes, organizing the beans in canisters. Around lunchtime, she assisted Ren in making LeBlanc’s famous curry. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, to keep it off the back of her neck. It was hot in the tiny kitchen, and she was starting to work up a sweat. Her hair rubbing the back of her neck didn't help.

Ren raised an eyebrow upon seeing her but didn’t say anything. He simply gestured to the carrots and said, “You can cut those. I’ll chop the onions.”

Her cuts weren’t as clean as Ren’s, she noticed. His chops were quicker, more confidant. It was obvious he had lots of experience, and Haru couldn’t help but watch.

“After this,” he said without missing a beat, effortlessly chopping potatoes, “do you want to eat lunch? I know a dinner we could go to.”

“Oh.” She paused, not trusting herself to speak and chop carrots without hurting herself, “Sure. That would be nice.” _And it would be a nice way to talk to you more_ , she thought. She quickly buried that idea, not allowing herself to dwell on it further.

From the corner of her eye, Haru could spot a ghost of a smile gracing Ren’s face. It left as quickly as it came, leaving Haru to wonder if she had seen anything at all.

* * *

The ride to the dinner on central street wasn’t a long one, but with Ren sitting so close, it left Haru’s brain unable to register the passage of time properly, making the trip seem longer than it probably was. The afternoon trains were nowhere as bad as the morning rush thankfully, but the afternoon lunch hour was still hectic.

Once they made it to the dinner, Haru and Ren sat in the booths, opposite of one another. She peeked from behind her menu, trying to decipher her quiet companion. She must have been staring more intensely than she thought, because without looking up from his menu he asked, “what’s up?”

She froze, words stuck in her throat. She cleared it with a cough, “I just…” she bit her lip but continued, “I hope this doesn’t come across as rude, but it’s hard to get a read on you sometimes.”

He put his menu down, allowing Haru to get a better look at his face. His stoic expression melted away into something more playful, “What do you want to know?”

“Oh.” She wasn’t expecting that answer. Now, with his full attention on her, she was beginning to lose her nerve. Any question she might have asked dissipated in the foggy mist that was her brain. Searching through her muddled thoughts, one question did solidify, “You and Boss seem close. Closer than a typical boss and employee anyway. How did you two meet?”

He rested his head in hand, elbow on the table, eyes on the floor. “That’s a long story.” He mumbled, mostly to himself.

She could sense the hesitance in his voice, so she decided to change the subject, “Maybe this question might be easier. How many jobs do you have?”

He visibly relaxed, “Not counting LeBlanc, there’s the 777, the flower shop, the beef bowl, and a bar.”

She blinked at that, not excepting that last answer, “A bar? What bar?”

That mischievous smile was back in full force, “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Haru had to resist the urge to pry, asking the next logical question, “Are you of legal drinking age?”

“Technically no.”

She laughed at that answer, and he smiled at her reaction, as though he were proud of himself. “So that means you’re…?”

“19.”

Haru hummed, eyes on the table, “So I’m a little bit older.” A little satisfied with his answers, she studied her menu again, “But I’ve still got a lot to learn when it comes to coffee compared to you." She let out an easygoing laugh, "I guess that makes you my senpai.”

That got a chuckle out of him, and Haru swore she saw a dust of pink on his cheeks. Before she could get a better look at his face, he buried it deeper in his menu, “How about,” Ren spoke up, “we both get a surprise sando and a fruit tea.”

She smiled, “Okay, that sounds nice.” She’d never been here before, so she’d trust his judgment. “Also, I was thinking… perhaps we could order a parfait?” She wanted to make up for missing out on crepes. At least that’s what she told herself. Realistically, she was sure she had a sweet tooth.

He gave a nod, “Sure.”

They called over the waitress, placing their orders. Once the young woman was out of sight, Ren peeked at Haru from behind his menu, clearing his throat, “Your hair looks nice like that.”

It took a moment for Haru to register what he meant. Gracing her hair with her fingers, she realized it was still pulled up in a ponytail. “Oh, thank you.” She mindlessly played with a few strands, “I didn’t notice it was still up.”

“Well,” his eyes hadn’t met hers, studying the menu as if it would be on a future test, “it looks nice.”

She smiled, trying not to outwardly show how giddy his compliment made her feel. Ren rested his head in his hand again, eyes meeting hers. “You won’t mind if I ask _you_ questions now, do you?”

Haru paused, words escaping her. The only peep she managed to let out was a soft, “S-sure.”

He studied her for a moment, perhaps gathering his questions. For a split second, she wondered if he had figured her out. Did he know she lied about her family name? There were a ton of news media at the charity event, she wouldn’t be surprised if her pictures were in a magazine somewhere.

“Are you studying to become a coffee critic?”

Haru’s dread washed away at the innocent question, letting out a sigh of relief followed by a giggle. “No, but I can see why you’d think that.” She placed her hands in her lap and began to twiddle with her thumbs, “I _would_ like to open a coffee shop one day though. So, I’m learning all I can in the meantime.”

His brows raised slightly in mild surprise, “Your own coffee shop, huh?”

Haru tucked a stray hair behind her ear, eyes glued to the table. Her laugh was smaller; a lot shakier than she intended, “I know. It’s kind of a boring dream, huh?”

Ren gave his head a shake, his messy hair swaying as he did so, “Not at all. That’s pretty ambitious.”

Their food came not too long after that. This outing was more liberating when Haru compared it to any outing with Sugimura. No condescension, no air of superiority. Just a simple lighthearted conversation that didn’t leave Haru nauseated and desperate to run off to the safety of her apartment. If anything, this outing reminder her more of her get-togethers with Makoto; casual and relaxing. Though, there was something slightly different with Ren that Haru couldn’t put her finger on. Was it her personal intrigue? Her want to get closer with Makoto was there, sure, but she didn’t recall it feeling like this. And what was “this” exactly? A part of her had an idea, but she didn't want to dwell on it. So, she hid away that thought, ignoring it in hopes that it’ll disappear from her mind. Taking a sip of her tea, another question appeared. “Oh, Ren? I do have one more question.”

“Shoot.” He said before taking a sip of his own tea.

“Will I ever meet your cat?”

He smiled through his sip, placing his glass on the table, “Sure, if you want. Just a warning though; he’s only nice to Ann. And sometimes Futaba.”

She let out a giggle with a shake of her head. "Well that's not good. I wonder if I could bribe him with some homemade treats."

Ren let out a low whistle, "You haven't met him and you're already thinking of spoiling my cat? I'm almost jealous." 

Another word she could use to describe this outing came to mind; comfortable. It was easy for Haru to relax and let her guard down. She didn't have to mince her words, and he never made her feel uneasy. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll be cooking together a lot at LaBlanc. Maybe you could teach me how to make curry.”

He gave her another one of his half-smiles, “Yeah. Should be fun.”


	10. Sick Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sexual harassment (should I just make "Sugimura being gross" a CW?)

On her balcony, Haru busied herself with babying her plants. The dirt was still wet from the previous rain, air muggy, signifying spring coming to a close. Summer was near, but the rain was determined to overstay its welcome. Not that Haru was complaining. The rain was always welcomed if it meant her plants would be watered. She also adored how the mist of the water droplets left her garden with a hazy dream-like halo. When the sun would peek through the clouds, its lights hitting her plants just right, she could almost make out a rainbow. She made sure to take a picture that morning to send to Ren.  
As she moved on to cutting dying leaves off her flowers, her cell phone in her pocket rang. Drying her hands on her apron, she pulled out her phone, pausing when she read the name.

**Sugimura: I’m outside.**

She thickly swallowed, the lump in her throat making it more difficult to do so. Her phone pinged for a second text.

**Sugimura: You have morning classes correct? I’m dropping you off.**

Alone. In a car. With Sugimura. That wasn’t how she wanted to spend her Friday morning. Her stomach twisted in that familiar way it did whenever he demanded anything of her. How did he even know her class schedule?

**Haru: That won’t be necessary. I usually go by myself.**

She chewed her bottom lip as she waited for a response. 

**Sugimura: I’m already outside.**

Despite knowing that, there was still some small part of her that foolishly hoped he’d take the hint and leave. Her shoulders deflated. With a sigh, she looked to her garden, already missing its safe and peaceful ambiance.

* * *

“What took you so long?” Was the first thing Sugimura said to her when she got in the back of the car. She sat by the window, as far away from her fiancé as possible, setting her school bag between them to create an artificial shield.

“I’m sorry.” She said, hands in her lap, eyes forward, “I was tending my garden and lost track of time.”

He let out a huff, “what a waste of time. If you put that same time and energy into something more useful, like school, you probably could have graduated earlier.”

Haru didn’t dignify that with a response. The car drove out of her apartment parking lot and into the busy streets. She’d never been driven to school; she practically had the train system memorized. She liked taking the train. It made her feel independent.

It was as if time moved slower in the car. Haru didn’t remember the drive to her university being this long. For a moment, she allowed panic to settle in, believing perhaps Sugimura wasn’t taking her to her school. Was he purposefully taking a longer way, or was she being paranoid? She wouldn’t put it past him to try something like that, but what if she were just overthinking?

Sugimura didn’t seem to notice or care about her discomfort, as he sat back in his seat. “You sure have been busy lately.” He said without looking at her.

“Yes…” she said, voice soft, “school has been keeping me occupied.” So has LeBlanc on her off days, but he didn’t need to know that. The drive went on as Haru stared out the window, her body practically glued to the door, finger tapping on the handle. The tension in her shoulders dissipated at the sight of her school in the distance. It only lasted a second, as the unmistakable feeling of fingers running through her curly hair turned her skin cold.

“I haven’t seen you in so long.” He was a lot closer than was necessary, his cologne so strong it made her eyes water. “Do you think maybe you can make it up to me?”

“Oh, um—” She kept her eyes on the road in front of them, the gates to her university’s entrance growing larger the closer they got.

“Your father’s been worried about you, you know. You haven’t been answering your phone as much. Is there something you aren’t telling us?” His voice was thick with mock concern.

Her school’s parking lot was almost in full view. “No.” Haru sank deeper into her seat, “I’ve just been so overwhelmed with projects; I haven’t had much time for anything but sleep.”

His frown deepened, his hand finding its way to her lap, making Haru flinch away. She bit her lip, trying to keep her face as stoic as possible. Breaths even and eyes glazed, her fingers twitched over the door handle, silently sending a prayer to any god that was listening that the childproof lock wasn’t on.

“That so?” His voice was honeyed, his body too close, almost suffocating. She nearly choked on his strong cologne.

The car slowed, and Haru swiftly unbuckled her seat belt, opening the door, and rushed out, the car still moving into a stop.

“I should get going.” The words leaped out of her mouth at breakneck speed, before she slammed the door shut behind her.

She had managed to take two steps before Sugimura said from the car, “I’ll be here to pick you up. Don’t be late. And try to fix that frigid attitude before I get back.” His voice had an authoritative edge to it. Despite her urge to speed walk away, she kept her pace, eyes locked in front of her. Her vision blurred, frustrated tears threatening to spill. She kept it in, biting her lip in an attempt to stop the downpour. She didn’t want to cry; not here when she was surrounded by strangers. And when had her tears ever helped her with anything?

“Haru?”

The call of her name caused Haru to jump. Turning around, she relaxed at the sight of a familiar friendly face.

“Mako-chan!” She greeted with a smile, “good morning.”

Makoto slowed as she came closer, her eyes studying her face. For a moment, Haru wondered if a few tears did manage to slip by without her knowledge.

“Everything okay?” Makoto asked, mild concern laced in her voice.

Haru mentally scolded herself. “Yes, I’m fine. My allergies are just getting to me.” She gave her eye a rub to prove her point.

Makoto’s concerned melted away into something more casual, “I have some allergy pills with me. I’m willing to share.”

Haru let out a dry laugh, “No it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to waste your allergy medicine on me.”

Makoto waved off her concern before fishing through her bag, “Nonsense. Besides, won’t it be easier to focus on class if your allergies aren’t bothering you?” She handed Haru the bottle with a look on her face that was almost cheeky. It was the look Makoto wore whenever she knew she won an argument.

Haru sighed in defeat, “I… guess you’re right.”

Satisfied with herself, Makoto began to walk with Haru, the two women in sync. Haru was mostly focused on one of the vending machines in the courtyard. She wanted to— _needed_ to—wash out the taste of men’s cologne. Too preoccupied with her task, Haru hadn’t noticed Makoto had said anything until they had reached the machine. Makoto stood beside it, staring at her with a raised eyebrow as though anticipating a response.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mako-chan. What was the question?”

“I said I’ll be heading to LeBlanc later today. Want to come along?”

Haru paused. It was a simple question, yet it managed to make her stomach twist at the potential outcome of its complicated answer. Her fiancé expected her to wait for him to come pick her up. She had already hit her Sugimura limit after her drive to campus that morning. If she said no, she’d have to be alone in the car with him again. If she said yes, she could tell her father she lost track of time studying at her universities’ library. But would he believe that?

Against her better judgment, Haru blurted, “Yes. That sounds fun.”

* * *

There were a few more customers than usual sitting in the booths of LeBlanc. The regular elderly couple spoke amongst themselves about the news on the television. At the booth beside them sat two men in suits, ties loose and disheveled, relaxing over a cup of coffee. At one of the bar stools sat a man, nose deep in a book, a plate of sandwiches sat forgotten in front of him. The rich aroma of coffee was as strong as ever, soothing Haru's mind the moment she stepped into the shop. Most probably won’t call five customers “lively,” but it was the most life Haru had ever seen since she started coming to LeBlanc.

Sojiro gave Haru and Makoto a nod, “You two here for Ren?”

Before Haru could answer, Makoto spoke, “we’re just here to study.” She scanned the room before continuing, “looks like you have a full house today.”

Sojiro let out a sigh, “you could say that.” He paused, eyes scanning the café before asking, “could you do me a favor? Ren’s out sick today, so could you drop something off at his apartment for me?”

Haru tilted her head at that, “Ren’s sick?”

The look on Sojiro’s face was almost smug, “yeah. It’s probably because he’s always out in the rain. I told him he was going to catch a cold eventually if he wasn’t careful, but when has he ever listened to me.”

Makoto gave her head a shake, “yeah, that sounds like him. So, what was it you wanted us to drop off?”

Without another word, Sojiro disappeared into the small kitchen only to reappear holding a pot with oven mitts, “could you drop this off? It should only take a minute.”

Taking the mitts and pot carefully into her hands, Makoto smiled, “sure thing.” Turning to Haru she asked, “are you coming?”

* * *

Ren wasn’t exaggerating when he said he lived in the area. Right next to the grocery store stood a two-floor apartment. Under the stairs sat a red tricycle, obviously well used by the looks of its chipped paint and rust. As Haru followed behind Makoto, the mettle stairs creaked with every step they took. Haru knew that her apartment was considered luxurious by most, but it was something she never truly thought about until now. There was something charming about the building’s simple design.

On their way up the stairs and down the walkway, Makoto paused, Haru stopping a few paces behind her. Peeking her Makoto’s shoulders, Haru spotted a young woman in a blue-green dress, a spiked choker around her neck, and a white coat draped over her. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be the coat of a doctor. The young woman had a commanding aura, her dark brown eyes sharp and mature. She was closing a door behind her before she noticed the two girls staring at her.

“Hello.” The young woman greeted, “you two friends of the kid?”

It took a moment for Makoto to speak, “you mean Ren?”

The woman nodded, “that’s the one.”

Makoto studied the woman for a second, “are you a doctor?”

“Yup. Got a call from—I’m guessing—an overly concerned girlfriend.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, “it’s just a head cold. He should be fine. Just as long as he gets plenty of sleep and fluids.”

Haru’s mind was on repeat, the word “girlfriend” playing over and over in her head like an echo in a cave.

Makoto, unaware of Haru’s dilemma, asked, “ 'girlfriend'? Could you describe her?”

The woman placed her hand on her chin, eyes closed as if recalling an image, “She had long dyed hair, thick glasses…” she held up her hand at such a height, “about this tall.”

Makoto gave a short laugh of recognition, “Ah, I see. Well, thank you for coming. We’ll try and handle this from here.”

The woman gave a hum as she walked her, her black heels clicking with every step, “good luck. Call me if you need anything else.”

Without another word, Makoto looked to Haru, a silent request for her to knock on the door in her stead since Haru's hands were free. Haru obliged, knocking on the door, her mind disconnected from her own movements. She wanted to scold herself for being so stupid. The thought never accorded to her that Ren might be in a relationship. And if he were, what would it matter to her? It wasn't like she was available either. Before she allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts further, the door opened with a soft squeak. Behind it stood Futaba, a look of relief washing over her at the sight of Haru and Makoto.

“Oh thank god!” Futaba opened the door wider, welcoming them inside.

Makoto handed the pot over to Futaba before taking off her shoes. “Why did you call a doctor, Futaba? Is everything okay?” She asked.

Futaba looked to them, a sheepish look on her face, “Ren’s fever spiked, and I panicked.”

She led the two into the kitchen, placing the pot on the stovetop, using one of the mitts to open it. “Oooh, rice porridge! This smells delicious.”

As Makoto and Futaba spoke amongst themselves, Haru took the opportunity to scan the apartment. It was smaller than her own place, though she figured as much before she entered the building. The kitchen was right next to the front door, a dining table a few steps away. Beyond that sat the living room, the tv paused in the middle of what looked like a video game. The couch was in disarray, a blanket haphazardly thrown upon it, empty cans of soda decorating the coffee table. A closed laptop sat idly by, a game controller sitting next to it. Futaba and Ren had to have been closer than Haru thought if he trusted her enough to stay at his apartment while he was sick.

Turning to the dining area, Haru watched as Makoto scooped the porridge into a bowl. “I’ll take this to Ren.” She said before making her way to a door right off the living room. Left alone, Haru couldn’t fight off the urge to leave. She felt as if she were intruding; as if she didn’t belong. In truth, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place, and the overwhelming dread of what her father might say or do if— _when_ —he finds out she was avoiding Sugimura again… she involuntarily shivered.

“Cold?” Futaba asked from the dining room table. “There’s a heated blanket in the living room.”

Face flushed, Haru waved off the young girl’s concern, “no I’m fine. Thank you.”

Futaba simply shrugged before getting out of her chair, opening a cabinet, and grabbing a bowl. Going over to the stove, she shoveled some food into her bowl without a second thought. Futaba was obviously comfortable here. It was almost as if she were at home, the way she moved around the small apartment without a second thought. She knew which drawers the silverware was in, where the glasses and mugs were located.

“Um… Futaba-chan…” Haru’s voice drifted, her eyes meeting the floor, “how long have you known Ren?”

Futaba paused in her eating, pushing her glasses on her face with her free hand, “since high school.” She didn’t elaborate further, going back to her meal as if Haru hadn’t spoken at all. Haru’s eyes glanced at the door that led to Ren’s room. She wished she had the same level of intimacy and trust Makoto and Futaba had with him where they could go into his room and ask if he was okay.

When Makoto emerged, her brows were knit together with worry. She looked to Futaba and asked, “where’s the thermometer? I think you were right about his fever.”

Futaba pointed behind herself without looking up from her bowl. Makoto followed where Futaba’s finger was pointed, spotting the device next to the sink. 

Before she had a moment to grab it, a thought entered Haru’s brain and, before she had time to process it, the thought tumbled out her mouth, “how about I check up on him, Mako-chan. You haven’t sat down since we’ve gotten here.”

While there was a small part of Haru that wanted to check up on Ren to see how he was doing herself, another part of her wanted Makoto to relax. She knew her friend well enough to notice the signs of her becoming more frazzled. Though the image of Makoto fretting over a sick Ren was an endearing thought.

“Are you sure?” Makoto asked, fidgeting with the thermometer in her hands.

Haru made her way over to her, gently taking the small device into her own hands, “yes, I’m sure. Besides, don’t you have a paper to write?” Haru playfully scolded.

Makoto sighed in defeat, sitting in one of the dining room chairs. Satisfied, Haru made her way through the living room to Ren’s door. She paused, hand hovering mid knock. Gathering her courage, she knocked softly. There was a soft muffled grunt on the other side and Haru couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. The poor thing sounded exhausted. Opening the door slowly, the first thing Haru noticed was how dark the room was. The curtains were drawn, lights out. Even the floor was a warm dark wood. On the bed, under the dark blankets, laid a lump that could only have been Ren. His dark hair was the only thing visible from under his covers. Coming closer, Haru noticed a fluffy round pillow on Ren’s back. Upon closer inspection, Haru noticed that the “pillow” was a sleeping black cat.

She tiptoed closer, tapping Ren’s shoulder. He didn’t budge. She tapped him again and he buried himself deeper into his covers. It took everything in Haru not to giggle.

“Futaba…” Ren mumbled, voice hoarse, “I can’t get rest if you keep waking me up.”

This time Haru couldn’t hold back the giggle.

That seemed to have startled him, his eyes flying open. He sat up on his elbows, and his cat got up with a stretch and an irritated yawn.

Ren stared at her as if looking away would make her disappear. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes, “Sorry. I thought…” He trailed off before setting his eyes on hers again, “how long have you been here?”

Haru smiled, “I came here with Mako-chan. Sakura-san sent us with a pot of porridge. I hope you don’t mind; I’ll leave if—”

“No,” His voice was clearer as he sat up, positioning himself so his back was against the head of his bed. “I don’t mind that you’re here. I was just a bit surprised.”

She flushed, “O-oh. Well…” Unsure how to respond, she handed him the thermometer to him, “Mako-chan and Futaba-chan are worried about your fever. So, um…”

Without saying a word, he took the device into his mouth, sitting back against his bed. Haru decided she needed a break from Ren’s intense gaze and decided to tour his room.

There was a writing desk next to the window (peeking through the curtains reviled that it was a glass sliding door.) Beside the desk sat a tall plant in the corner. Between the plant and the desk, there was a small cat bed, said cat wrapped in a tight ball, asleep. Kneeling, Haru scratched the cat on the top of his head, and he let out a purr in response.

“Huh.” Ren’s voice broke the silence, “I guess he likes you.” His voice was muffled due to the thermometer, but it still managed to sound as clear as ever to Haru.

She smiled as she ran her fingers through the cat’s soft fur, “maybe next time I come I can bring something special.” She paused before turning to Ren, “something you both could enjoy.”

It wasn’t until Haru saw Ren’s lips twitch into a gradual smirk that she noticed the meaning behind her words. “Next time, huh?” He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and smiled.

Haru’s phone buzzed from her purse as if reminding her why she was here in the first place. It could have been her fiancé or her father, but she didn’t make a move to check. Speaking to either of them now would feel too much like being forcefully awakened from a dream; she wanted to sleep if only a little while longer.

The thermometer’s beeps broke Haru out of her daze. She stood up and made her way over to Ren’s bedside, taking the device from his mouth. Haru hummed as she read off the results, “it’s not _too_ bad. But I can see why Futaba-chan would be a bit worried.”

Ren rolled his eyes at that, “she’s been checking up on me every five minutes.”

Haru gave a soft laugh, “she was just making sure you were well taken care of.” She paused, replaying the words in her head. There was no denying he and Futaba were close. Perhaps it was a good thing he had someone to care for him. If it meant he won’t miss her when she inevitably left this simple life behind next spring, she was happy.

That didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

“So…” Haru rubbed her arm, eyes glued to the floor, “you and Futaba-chan… how long have you two been together?”

Ren blinked. Then he blinked again. Then, “huh?”

“You… and Futaba-chan.”

The seconds ticked by, and the longer the silence stretched, the more Haru wished she hadn’t said a thing. Finally, softly—and with a hint of amusement—Ren said, “We’re not together.”

It was as if a massive boulder was lifted off Haru’s chest, allowing her to breathe easier. Despite this, the more logical side of her tried to scold her for feeling relieved that Ren was single. If he _were_ in a relationship, he was free to do so. And that freedom to chose was something she envied more than the idea of him seeing someone. At least, that’s what she told herself.

“O-oh.” Haru's hands fell limply at her side, “It’s just… the doctor said she was your girlfriend. And-and you two seem so close, so I—” Her face was so hot, it was as if steam were coming out her very ears.

Ren bit his lip, trying to bite back a smile, “I mean, we _are_ pretty close. But we’re just friends.”

Her phone buzzed again, causing Haru to jump. Ren’s eyes drifted from her to her purse, a look of curiosity decorating his face. “Are you going to answer that?”

She hesitated, grip on her purse tight. “No, it’s fine.” She gestured to his food on his side table, “you should probably eat that before it gets cold. Get some rest, okay?” She backed herself into his closed door, letting out a nervous laugh before opening it. Once on the other side, she closed it gently, resting her head against the cool wood. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t deny it; she was attracted to him. She didn’t want to be—she tried _so_ hard not to—but he made it so hard. Ren made her smile and laugh without even meaning to. He didn’t even know about her family’s name or connections and yet he still treated her as an equal. He didn’t seem to dislike her company; if anything, he seemed to seek it out. He wouldn’t have invited her to eat lunch with him otherwise, right? When she was with Ren, things were simple. It was easy for her to forget about everything in her life. Her sigh came out more like a groan. She thought she'd be satisfied with just being Ren's friend, yet here she was, having mixed feelings about learning he was single. Her love life was never this complicated in her dreams.

It should be simple. It s _hould have been_ simple. Sugimura thought of her as nothing but a new source of income and a warm body to sleep with. Under any other conditions, she'd kick him aside. But her father— 

“Everything okay?”

Haru jumped, turning around at the sound of Makoto’s voice. She was seated in the dining room, laptop open, books and papers scattered about.

Collecting herself, Haru forced a smile, “yes, everything’s fine.”

Makoto didn’t seem convinced but she didn’t pry, and for that, Haru was grateful. Taking her seat across from Makoto, Haru pulled out her own books and paused when she felt her phone buzz again. She waited for the call to end before pulling it out and turning it off. Looking around the apartment, things were peaceful. The clicks of Makoto's keyboard paired with the noise from Futaba's game from the living room TV were oddly calming. It was as if her real-life were on pause, and she was currently a different person. Looking to the black screen of her phone, she frowned. She worried that the calls weren't from Sugimura, but her father. Her mouth went dry at the thought. 

Shaking her head, Haru tried to focus on her studies. She could think of a convincing excuse later, but for now, she wanted to dream, only a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! 💕


End file.
